Love is a battlefield
by Thatkliqkid
Summary: SLASH. Hanson's hiding an angsty past and is feeling very insecure in his relationship with Doug. rating may change to M. This is my first attempt at slash so please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Hanson lay on his side, sheets drawn over his head desperately trying not to cry. How could he do this to him? How could he? After all he'd told him, all he'd said, all they'd shared?! A million thoughts buzzed round and round in his mind.

The door slammed and Hanson looked over at the clock. The numbers flipped over so that the digital face beamed out 2:08am.

Doug tread up the stairs softly. Well as softly as a man who had drunk far too much could tread. He pushed open the bedroom door gently and at the sound of the creak Hanson swiftly pretended to be asleep. Defeated Doug stumbled from the room and across the landing into the spare bedroom. Hanson opened his eyes, rolled over onto his back and let the tears fall.

Breakfast the next morning was uncomfortable to say the least. Hanson was dishing out the usual silent treatment and Doug was too hung-over to care. They barely managed to exchange two words and to be honest Hanson found those a struggle. He didn't want to talk to Doug at the moment, to hear his excuses, his blatant lies. He took the pile of dishes over to the sink and ran the water.

" You gonna be pissy all day?" mumbled Doug draining the last of the coffee from his cup. Hanson ignored him and carried on rinsing his dishes out. He hated the arguments and the fights as much as Doug did but he wasn't backing down. Not this time.

" _I said_; Are you gonna be pissy all day?!" repeated Doug harshly. Hanson turned, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearms covered in soapsuds. He shot a cool yet abrasive look in his partner's direction.

" I've got a right to be _pissy _as you so eloquently put it" he snapped sarcastically.

" alright out with it Tom what's your problem this time?" sighed Doug

" What do you care?! I mean don't you have better things to do? More _important _people to see?!" spat Hanson bitterly.

" What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

" You know what it means!"

" Aw come on Tom stop being so overdramatic " snapped Doug. Hanson slammed the plate he was holding into the sink so hard that the water sloshed over the sides.

" Overdramatic? OVERDRAMATIC?!" exploded Hanson, " I tell you what; _I'll _go out all night and _I'll_ not call, not say where _I've_ gone, not say who _I'm_ with and we'll see who gets overdramatic and pissy _then_!"

With that Hanson stormed from the kitchen slamming the door behind him as he left.

" Shit" muttered Doug. He stood up and followed Hanson who was stood with his back to him in the living room.

" Go away" mumbled Hanson his voice thick with tears.

" Come on Tommy-" began Doug, he wrapped his arms around Hanson, encircling him from behind.

" Get off" interrupted Hanson shrugging him off. Stung, Doug released him.

" What is your problem?!" cried Doug

" YOU! _You_ are my problem!" yelled Hanson his voice cracking, " You're insensitive and you're a jerk and I hate you!"

" you don't really mean that"

" yes I do" sniffed Hanson unconvincingly.

" Bullshit" spat Doug

" Oh ok so now you get to tell me what I do and do not think. Won't tell me where you go for hours on end alone but _will _tell me what I think!" snapped Hanson

" _why_ is it so hard for you to trust me?!" cried Doug

" because _you_ keep pushing me out!" replied Hanson angrily

" I do not!"

" Ok so where were you last night then?" interrogated Hanson

" Went to the pub"

" with who?"

" Does it matter?"

" _With who_?!" repeated Hanson forcefully

" Oh my God Tom!"

" Just tell me!" cried Hanson

" I am so sick of this crap!" yelled Doug angrily

" you're the one who keeps pushing me out!"

" Yeah only cause I need space to actually breathe!" retaliated Doug.

Hanson stared at him, hurt. He looked stricken for a moment before his soft brown eyes turned a fiery black.

" You want space? HAVE SPACE!" he yelled storming from the room

" Where you going?" called Doug weakly

" AWAY FROM YOU!" cried Hanson childishly. He stood leaning over the banister.

" Come on Tom" sighed Doug

" YOU WANTED SPACE. YOU GOT SPACE!" shouted Hanson down the stairs, " NOW YOU CAN GO WHERE YOU WANT, WITH WHO YOU WANT, WHEN YOU WANT. YOU'RE FREE TO FUCK WHOEVER YOU WANT; I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"

Doug winced as the bedroom door slammed.

" what if I don't want anyone else?" he muttered softly.

Hanson lay on the double bed sobbing softly to himself. He heard the front door slam shut and cried harder. He wished he could take the words back, petrified that Doug was taking advantage of his new found space, Hanson sobbed into his pillow.

Doug came back several hours later. Walking aimlessly had allowed him to blow off steam and mull over Hanson's choice words. Jealousy was a horrible thing to have to deal with but he could finally see Hanson's point of view. His boyfriend was scared of losing him.

He pushed open the door and saw Hanson lying on the bed his knees tucked up into his chest. His breathing was shallow and rhythmic meaning he was sleeping. Doug clambered on the bed, laying down beside him. He lay on his side and just stared into his sleeping face for a few moments. Hanson looked so beautiful to him. How could he possibly think that he'd want someone else? He stroked a strand of hair from Hanson's face and he stirred.

" Hey" whispered Doug staring back at Hanson's sleepy face.

" Hey" muttered Hanson softly

" You ok?" whispered Doug. Hanson stared at him.

" I didn't mean what I said-"

" Shhhhhh" hushed Doug. He placed a finger on Hanson's lips, " just listen for a minute ok?"

Hanson nodded slightly.

" First off I don't want to be with anyone else. Ever. Why would I when I've got you?" said Doug stroking Hanson's face lightly.

" You go out all the time-"

" That doesn't mean I don't want to be with you"

" Yeah well it feels like it sometimes. I hardly get to spend anytime with you anymore unless we're on a case" murmured Hanson

" Tommy we live together"

" ' cept you're hardly ever here" argued Hanson

" Come on Tommy"

" no _you_ come on" said Hanson, " What am I supposed to think?"

" Tommy I _love_ you" said Doug

" And I love you but sometimes, Sometimes I think you wanna be with someone else"

" Why?! Why would I want to be with someone else? God damn it Tommy why are you so insecure?!"

Hanson choked back a sob.

" Hey, Hey don't cry" whispered Doug compassionately. He pulled Hanson close to him and kissed him gently, realising that pushing his boyfriend for information at this time wasn't the wisest of tactics.

" I love you Doug" whimpered Hanson, his voice muffled by Doug's chest.

" I love you too" whispered Doug, " come on let's stop with the stupidity ok? I fucked up last night and I'm sorry"

" I'm sorry bout this morning. I don't hate you" said Hanson.

" I know" laughed Doug, " Come on downstairs, I've got something for you"

" really?" asked Hanson his curiosity heightened. He followed Doug downstairs into the living room where a pint of chocolate ice cream stood on the coffee table surrounded by scattered magazines. On top of the tub was a red rose.

Hanson stared, momentarily lost for words. It was a simple gesture but it was sweet. Ok, more than a little corny but sweet nonetheless.

Doug stood biting his lip unsure what Hanson's silence meant.

" Thanks Doug"

" You don't like it do you?" murmured Doug his heart sinking.

" Don't like it? Doug, this is the nicest thing anyone ever did for me" said Hanson grinning. He took the rose and placed it in a vase in the kitchen before coming back with two spoons.

" want some?" he asked indicating the ice cream.

" shouldn't we have dinner first?"

" I prefer dessert" said Hanson. He opened the ice cream and began eating it. Doug came over and sat beside him on the sofa. He took a small bite and noticed Hanson staring at him

" what?"

" Nothing. I'm just looking" he replied

" oh. See anything you like?" teased Doug

" maybe" retorted Hanson. He moved closer and placed his hand on Doug's thigh before closing in for a kiss. Their mouths met and they savoured the sweet chocolatey taste.

" your mouth's cold" whispered Doug when they momentarily broke apart. Hanson grinned mischievously.

" don't even think about it" warned Doug

" what?" questioned Hanson innocently.

" You know what" said Doug shooting him a meaningful glance. Hanson took it as a go ahead and rested his hand over the crotch of Doug's jeans before pulling him in for another chocolatey kiss.

" Stop" murmured Doug. Hanson pulled back.

" What's the matter?" he asked slightly breathless

" Let's go upstairs" suggested Doug

" What about the ice cream?"

" Bring it up with you"

" And do what with it exactly?"

" I can think of a few things" grinned Doug suggestively. Hanson smiled back and followed Doug upstairs.

He barely had time to place the ice cream down on the bedside cabinet before Doug was kissing him again. He pulled his shirt over his head and the pair tumbled onto the bed together, entwined in a passionate embrace.

After it was over Hanson lay there absorbing the warmth radiating from Doug's back.

" You asleep?" he whispered

" kind of" murmured Doug sleepily, " why you wanna talk bout something?"

" no, I'm good" said Hanson softly. He snuggled closer to Doug enjoying the way he felt. He lay there listening to Doug's rhythmic breathing, knowing he was on the brink of sleep and lost himself in the sweet memory of what they'd just shared.

" I love you" he whispered suddenly, " Don't ever leave"

" I wont" replied Doug his voice thick with sleep. Satisfied, Hanson closed his eyes and slept. It seemed like he had been sleeping all of seven seconds when Doug's voice penetrated his semi conscious mind.

" Tommy? Come on get up".

Hanson grunted and snuggled further under the duvet.

" Not getting up. Sleeping" he muttered.

" You have to get up"

" five more minutes" pleaded Hanson

" _Tom_" snapped Doug.

" Doug I'm _sleepy_"

" You got 30 seconds" warned Doug.

" You can't make me get up" murmured Hanson, eyes still shut.

" Ok" agreed Doug placidly. Hanson heard him moving around and his suspicions grew.

Suddenly he felt the blanket whipped from him and found himself doused in cold water.

" Arrgh!" he gasped, water dripped from his hair and ran down his face.

" Getting up now?" smirked Doug holding the cup in his hand.

" What was that for?" gasped Hanson teeth chattering

" I told you to get up" laughed Doug

" pig!" snapped Hanson clambering out of bed. He gave Doug a half assed shove who retaliated by playfully wrestling his lover onto the bed. He kissed him gently on the lips.

" Thought we had to get up" said Hanson softly

" we do. I just thought that after I doused you in cold water the least I could do was warm you back up" replied Doug

" Yeah you do owe me that much" grinned Hanson

" Besides you look damn sexy like that. I might have to use this method of waking you up every morning" added Doug grinning mischievously. Hanson kissed him.

" Shame we got to go to the chapel" teased Hanson

" come on don't do this to me Tommy"

" Serves you right for tossing cold water all over me" grinned Hanson. He went to get up but Doug pinned him to the bed.

" Nuh uh Tommy. I've still gotta warm you back up"

Hanson gazed up at him a smile lingering on his lips.

" Ok I surrender" he grinned. What the hell, so they'd be a little late reporting in. It'd be more than worth it.

" Nice of you to join us gentlemen" said Fuller dryly as Hanson and Penhall tried to slink unnoticed into their desks. They were 15 minutes late.

Hanson grinned sheepishly

" sorry, slept in" he lied

" Well may I suggest you try investing in an alarm clock?"

" Duly noted captain. I'll pick one up tonight" said Hanson good naturedly.

" what's your excuse Penhall?" asked Judy slyly

" Uh, had a problem with some water in the apartment. Had to clear it up"

Hanson snorted with laughter. Judy and Fuller glanced in his direction alarmed. Doug shot him a warning glance.

" sorry" choked Hanson trying to suppress his giggles.

" something amuse you Hanson?" enquired Fuller. Hanson sobered up immediately

" No, No sorry sir" said Hanson desperately trying to keep his face straight. Doug caught his eye and he bit his lip struggling not to laugh again.

" Hanson-" said Fuller, his tone grew serious and Hanson knew now was not the time  
" Sorry" repeated Hanson sheepishly.

" You think you can control yourself long enough to do some paper work?" asked Fuller sarcastically

" Yes sir" replied Hanson softly

He'd been sat struggling to fill in a form for about 15 minutes when Doug came over.

" Hanson, have you got the warrant we used in that drugs bust last month?"

" No" snapped Hanson furiously rubbing out another mistake. He gave an exaggerated sigh.

" You'd think someone who was top of their class in the academy would be able to fill in a simple form"

Hanson's hand stiffened at the sound of Booker's voice.

" Go away" muttered Hanson

" ah Tommy that's not nice" smirked Booker, " I was only saying"

" Yeah well don't!" snapped Hanson bitterly.

" What you gonna do? Draw a line down the chapel and say 'you stay on your side, I'll stay on mine?'" said Booker laughing

" I'm not stopping you coming over here, What I want is for you to shut the hell up and leave me alone!" snapped Hanson

" I tell you what I wont say a word how's that?"

Hanson glanced up at him a look of defeat on his face. He knew where this was leading.

Booker perched himself on the edge of Hanson's desk and picked up his spare pencil. He tapped it repeatedly against the coffee cup Hanson had left over from the night before so that it made a clinking sound. He beat it into a rhythm incorporating the desk into his percussion.

" STOP IT!" cried Hanson annoyed flinging down his form

" And I always thought you were a music lover"

" Leave him alone alright?"

" Ah Douglas to the rescue again I see" mocked Booker

" Fuck off Dennis" snapped Hanson harshly.

" Fuck off Dennis" mimicked Booker

" What are you, five?!" snapped Doug, " Go bother someone else for a change"

" But bothering Hanson's so much more fun." said Booker, " He gets so annoyed, so easily. Then he gets that angry little look on his face-"

" Leave him alone"

" Doug I can take care of myself!" protested Hanson weakly. Booker smirked shooting him a disbelieving look.

" So take care of yourself" snapped Doug irritated, he stormed over to his own desk and sat down, back to Hanson.

"Now look what you did!" exclaimed Hanson glaring at Booker

" Hey you're the one who just told your little fuck buddy you could take care of yourself" shrugged Booker

" Don't call him that!"

" Are you, or are you not, fucking the guy?" enquired Booker a twisted smile on his face

" None of your business" snapped Hanson

" Are you fucking him?" repeated Booker

" shut up Booker!"

" Are you-"

" ALRIGHT! YES, YES I AM!" screamed Hanson irate. Most officers in the chapel turned to stare at him.

" Then I stand by my original statement" smirked Booker

" I hate you" snapped Hanson.

" oh I'm devastated" retorted Booker sarcastically

" Oh just fuck off"

" You've got a filthy little mouth haven't you?"

" FUCK OFF!" repeated Hanson irritated

" Is there a problem over here gentlemen?" asked Fuller dryly.

" No" mumbled Hanson

" Booker, I don't believe this is your desk"

" I was just borrowing a pencil" said Booker smiling. He flipped the pencil over in his hand whilst Hanson glared on.

" So go sit down and do some work with it" said Fuller sharply. He glanced Hanson over, skimming his face for some sort of clue. Was Booker homophobic? The thought had occurred to him more than once these past few months. Hanson and Penhall had outed themselves almost as soon as they'd started dating late into their second year at Jump Street and most officers in the chapel had accepted it without question. Booker however seemed to go out of his way to torment the couple, particularly Hanson.

Booker wandered slowly back towards his desk and sat down not taking his eyes off Fuller and Hanson.

" You ok Tom?" enquired Fuller

" Yeah. Yeah I am"

" You know you can tell me anything in confidence don't you?"

" Yes." said Hanson shortly, " But captain I'm ok really. Booker's just being his usual jerky self. That's all. Nothing I can't handle."

" If it's something more than that you or Penhall come and find me do you understand me?" said Fuller firmly

" What more could it be? Booker's just a jerk, that's all captain"

" You know what else it could be-"

" Well it isn't that!" snapped Hanson. He was sick of people assuming everything that ever happened to him was linked directly to his sexuality. He knew Fuller was careful about pairing Hanson and Penhall up as partners sometimes because of the emotional attachments, knew that he was careful when choosing which cases to put them on incase they were outed and there was a moral outrage. The public were iffy enough as it was about cops in high school. Hanson knew there'd be hell to pay if the parents found out there were _gay_ undercover cops going into high schools and interacting with their little darlings. Ha little darlings, Some of the kids Hanson mingled with undercover were worse than the hardened adult criminals he'd busted on beat when he'd been fresh out of the acadamey.

He saw Fuller still standing over his desk and sighed.

" Honestly Captain I am FINE"

" Ok, then get back to work" snapped Fuller. He stormed back into his office and slammed the door. Judy cringed.

" What's up with him?" she whispered

" Hanson doesn't need help from anyone. Guess that includes Fuller too"

" Doug-" began Hanson

" You hear something?" asked Doug waspishly

Judy shot Hanson a pitying look.

" Fine, don't listen to me I don't care. It's not me who fucks around anyway" snapped Hanson.

" Have you been cheating on little sweet cheeks over here Doug?" asked Booker grinning

" piss off Booker" said Doug sounding bored

" He wont talk about it" said Hanson loudly,

" Well if I was gonna talk to someone it wouldn't be you would it? I mean you can take care of yourself right? You don't need me" spat Doug.

" Come on guys, maybe you should discuss this at home" murmured Judy; obviously uncomfortable.

" Oh he wont be going home" snapped Hanson, " He likes to stay out all the time isn't that right Dougie?"

" You know Hanson, you're such a fucking child. It's no wonder I don't talk to you. I'd actually like to have a mature conversation once in a while without your childish wisecracks and insecure interrogations you know? I mean my god you smother a guy!" cried Doug

" Come on guys" pleaded Judy

" Leave them to it Jude, this is getting interesting" smirked Booker

Hanson flung his chair against his desk and stormed across the office hovering between Doug and Booker's desks unsure as to who he should retort to first. Aggravated he chose neither and stormed from the room.

He leaned against the wall in the corridor and closed his eyes, heart hammering in his chest.

Why had he said that about Doug? Doug wasn't cheating, he knew he wasn't. well he was 95 sure he wasn't. He groaned. He'd ruined another good thing he knew it. He was such an idiot. He was insecure. Too insecure and he knew it. He just couldn't help it. He wished he could tell Doug why he was the way he was. He loved him enough to. He just didn't have the courage to. It would cripple him. Anyway how would Doug react to that? Would he be pitying and compassionate to the point of smothering Hanson or would he be disgusted with him? Shocked at his weakness and stupidity? Things were so much easier when they were partners in the occupational sense only.

He started when he felt someone touch his arm gently. He opened his eyes to find Judy staring back at him.

" Come on, Let's go somewhere quiet and talk" she said softly. Hanson shot her a grateful smile and allowed her to lead him out of the chapel.

" where's Hoffs and Hanson?" barked Fuller coming out of his office to check the progress of the young officers. He also felt compelled lately to check on them every so often to make sure Hanson or Penhall hadn't killed Booker or vice versa.

" Dunno. Haven't seen them for about half an hour"

" They're on their lunch break" volunteered Booker. Doug shot him a warning look.

" It's TEN THIRTY!"

" Oh well brunch break then"

" Brunch?"  
" Yeah it's a meal that combines the characteristics of breakfast and lu-"

" I KNOW WHAT BRUNCH IS BOOKER!" cried Fuller angrily. Doug sniggered softly.

" sorry" muttered Booker, " But It's not my fault they hightailed it outta here. That's all Tommy and Dougie's problem. Credit them for their little relationship flaws. You really shouldn't be hard on them though Capt they're going through a little rough patch. See, poor little Tommy thinks Doug's cheating on him but Doug thinks Hanson's smothering him. On top of all that the honey moon period seems to be well and truly dead plus I think they've had a communication breakdown. Did I cover all the bases there Douglas?"

" Enough Booker!" snapped Fuller.

" What I was only informing you-"  
" Booker it's nothing to do with you!" interrupted Fuller sharply

" It is when they have lover's tiffs across the office" muttered Booker, " I mean how am I supposed to get any work done with those two squabbling bout who does what and who fucks who every two seconds?"  
" BOOKER!"

" Hanson's words not mine" said Booker swiftly

" Hanson didn't say fuck all to you-"

" PENHALL!"

" What?!" cried Doug

" Don't take that tone with me Penhall, Now the pair of you stop with the damn obscenities and tell me where Hoffs and Hanson have disappeared to!"

" I told you they're on their brunch br-"

" THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A BRUNCH BREAK IN THIS PRECINCT OR ANY OTHER IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

" yeah we barely get a break" muttered Booker

" IT CAN ALWAYS BE MADE SHORTER BOOKER"

" I assure you it couldn't possibly-"

" IN MY OFFICE BOOKER!"

" Ok so we don't get brunch break but we get called in the office like school kids?" snapped Booker, " You know Hanson was right, this place is like the fourth grade!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the people who reviewed I really appreciate it. Since I've never done slash before I'm sort of going with the flow whenever writer's block leaves me alone. Ah well LOL. Hope you like the latest update. Enjoy the chapter. I hope it's not too corny or boring and that I haven't messed Hanson's character up LOL.**

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"Well maybe if you didn't act like you were still _in _fourth grade-"

"IF I WANTED YOUR INPUT PENHALL I WOULD ASK FOR IT!" yelled Fuller furiously cutting Doug's scathing comment.

"NOW IN MY OFFICE BOOKER!"

Booker gave a mock salute before striding purposefully into the office. Fuller slammed the door angrily behind him leaving Doug alone in the main office. He slumped down at his desk and amused himself by flicking his pencil up into the air and trying to catch it before it managed to hit the desk. He tried his best to ignore the raised voices coming from the office.

" Why am _I _the one getting the third degree when it's one half of Laurel and Hardy and little Miss thang who've hightailed it outta here?!" cried Booker

"THAT is why!" replied Fuller angrily, "You're an undercover cop Booker, you're here to _play _teenager or did you forget that?! You're not meant to act like an inconsiderate, sarcastic jerk all the time!"

Booker rolled his eyes and Fuller resisted the urge to grab hold of him and shake him til his teeth rattled. He took a deep breath.

"Booker, I'm an understanding kind of guy but I don't appreciate tension within my department. When partners argue, they don't work too well together. When that happens out on the field, mistakes get made. IAD gets called in. IAD come and bust _my_ ass and When that happens I don't sleep so well. If I don't sleep well I get angry do you understand?!"

"What kept you up last night? " asked Booker

Fuller glared at him

" Booker, what's your problem with Hanson and Penhall?"

" I don't have a problem with Hanson and Penhall" said Booker

" Then leave the pair of them alone. I won't tolerate bullying in this department"  
" Bullying?" laughed Booker

" Yes Bullying"

" I'm not bullying anyone" laughed Booker

" I'm warning you Dennis, their personal life is their business-"

" You think I have a problem with them because they're _gay_?!" cried Booker indignantly, " I couldn't care less what they were, they'd still be annoying. I don't wind them up because of their sexuality captain!"

" well regardless, I want you to leave them alone you hear me. You're partners so start acting like it!"

" Yessir" smiled Booker.

" Ok now get out of my sight" snapped fuller. He sighed as Booker left the office slamming the door behind him. There was something about the young officer that irritated him. He didn't quite know what it was. The officer wasn't anymore sarcastic or immature than Hanson or Penhall. There was just a quality about him that seemed to earn the officer Fuller's intense dislike.

" So has dearest Tommy returned yet?"

" Shut up Booker" snapped Doug

" I was only asking," replied Booker smiling

Doug shot him a filthy look.

" He's not gonna leave you!" laughed Judy . Hanson glanced nervously around the crowded café hoping that the majority of people situated there had misheard the first part of Judy's sentence and were comfortable in their assumption that the skinny, good looking guy sitting opposite them was nothing but your typical red-blooded American male.

Too late. They were already shooting him weird and disgusted looks.

" Uh Jude-"

" You're so insecure, I mean Doug loves you Hanson" Judy carried on regardless.

" Judy!" hissed Hanson, " why don't you talk a little louder, I mean there's a guy over in New Jersey who didn't quite catch that!"

" What?" she asked, confusion etched across her face

" People are staring" mumbled Hanson

" Are you ashamed of being gay?!"

Hanson put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. Please God, let the earth just open up.

" No, I'm not _ashamed_" he muttered into his hands, " I just don't want the entire world knowing!"

" Sounds like you are to me"

" I am not!" snapped Hanson

" Hanson-"

" will you just _shut up_?!" he yelled furiously. He glanced at the couple on the table nearest to them

" What?! _What_ is your problem?!" he snapped. They looked away embarrassed. Judy grabbed him by the arm, digging her sharp nails into the tender flesh of his forearm.

Hanson yanked his arm back forcefully, tearing himself from her grip easily.

" Don't ever touch me!" he snapped before standing up and storming from the café.

Judy remained seated, staring at his retreating frame, puzzling over his actions.

Hanson stood outside the café sulking. He wasn't ashamed. Why did people automatically come to that conclusion just because he refused to out himself to the world? He sighed. It had been like that since the beginning.

He'd been eighteen. Just left school when he met him. He was twenty two, older and wiser. He sought him out after school, let him follow him around on a weekend, Consented to be his boyfriend - His first real one at that. Hanson could still remember those times in his room. His mother in the kitchen making dinner assuming that he was just a friend of Tom's. Back then she didn't know. Didn't know that he was confused, that girls weren't his thing. Sometimes Hanson wondered how she'd missed the signs. Ok so he didn't exactly fall into the stereotypical box labelled as gay but surely he emitted _some_ signs. Surely she had to be a little anxious by the fact that he only ever brought this one guy home that he talked about him non-stop.

Hanson closed his eyes and leaned against the café window lost in the memory.

_He always sat on the floor whilst Tom would lay half sprawled on the bed. There'd be some record playing. Some rock or heavy metal. Mid way through a song he would always come and squash up next to him, engulfing him with his presence, making him feel as if he couldn't breathe. _

_Then the kisses would start. _

_They made his whole body tingle, made him hot all over. This overwhelming feeling would wash all over him and he would know he was in love._

_Then the pressuring would start and even though his body was screaming yes, his heart and mind screamed no; he always pulled back at the last moment refusing to take those last fateful steps. _

_He remembered his husky voice in his ear_

" _Are you a virgin Tommy?" _

_His voice barely audible._

_The 18-year-old would always freeze, terrified to answer. _

_And sweetly he would take the teenager's hand, whispering in his ear that it would all be ok, that he was prepared to wait for him as long as it took. _

Hanson groaned. Why was he focusing on that now? He'd been eighteen for god sakes. Eighteen! He was older now, much more experienced and more importantly in a loving relationship with a guy he thought the world of. _Who definitely isn't cheating._

He desperately tried to reassure himself, to lay his fears to rest.

" You were a real jerk back there Hanson!"

He opened his eyes.

" I know" he mumbled. Judy sighed.

" What's wrong?" she asked softly. She knew Hanson was upset, could see the distress written on his face.

" Just, just this whole…._thing…_ with Doug" he whispered, " I mean, he goes out all the time and he gets drunk. What, what if-"

" He isn't" said Judy gently

" How do you know?"

" Because it's Penhall. And he wouldn't do anything like that" she replied matter of factly.

Hanson stared at her , his face clouded with a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

" Hanson he _wouldn't_. He especially wouldn't do something like that to _you. _God Hanson do you know how much he cares about you? How much he loves you? Hanson, he practically worships the ground you walk on!"

" Doesn't" muttered Hanson

" Bull Hanson, that's bull and you know it. Do you know how many times he sat in my apartment rehearsing and reciting what he was going to say to you before he asked you out? He was petrified he was gonna screw your friendship up. Hanson he _loves _you!" snapped Judy.

Hanson gave a small smile.

" He rehearsed what he was gonna say?"

" Like a million times"

" Was it any good?" he laughed

Judy looked at him confused.

" Didn't Doug tell you he liked you?" she asked

" He didn't have to" Hanson smiled

" what did he do instead?"

"Instead of the speech?"

Hanson rubbed his nose shyly.

" Just kissed me" he shrugged eventually.

" Must have been some kiss" teased Judy, " Sure he didn't do something else?"

Hanson grinned.

" I don't do things like that on first dates" he said coyly

" Yeah right!"

" I don't!" laughed Hanson

" I'll just ask Doug when we get back" threatened Judy. Hanson rolled his eyes at her good naturedly before the pair made their way back to Jump Street chapel.


	3. Chapter 3

"Fuller. Office. Real mad. Good Luck." said Doug not bothering to even look up from his form.

Judy smiled. She thought it was kind of cute that Doug could tell Hanson was there without looking at him.

"Thanks" muttered Hanson. He slunk over to fuller's office with Judy trailing behind him. The pair dithered outside the door, neither wanting to be the one to knock and be first to face the brunt of their superior's anger. Finally Hanson knocked on the door sharply.

"Come in"

Judy pushed Hanson in ahead of her.

Fuller looked up from his paperwork.

"Hi" smiled Hanson nervously.

"Close the door" commanded Fuller. Judy shut it quietly

"Where the hell have you two been?!" he exploded

Hanson visibly cringed.

"Well um see Booker was-"  
"Booker was here, which is where _you_ were supposed to be Hoffs!"

"Yeah but he was tormenting Hanson and Penhall and Hanson got upset-"  
"I wasn't _upset_!" snapped Hanson defensively.

"Yes you were"

"Wasn't"

"You were"

"No I wasn't!"

"You we-"  
"ARE YOU QUITE FINISHED?!" roared Fuller.

Judy and Hanson stood silently and apprehensively

"Don't you EVER do that again you hear me? You are undercover cops and you have work to do, you don't just clock in and out when you damn well please you got that?!"

"Yes sir" mumbled Hanson

"But Captain-"  
"You got that Hoffs?!" barked Fuller, not wanting to hear her excuses.

"Yes sir"

"Good now get out of my sight and do some actually work!" he snapped, "Oh and before I forget, you two owe me 45 minutes. Make sure you catch them up"

"well that was fun" snapped Hanson sarcastically as he sat down at his desk.

"Less talk, more work Tommy!" called Booker cheerfully

"Hey why don't you do all of us a favour and _you_ talk less huh Book?" snapped Doug

"Bite me Douglas"

"you're such an asshole" muttered Hanson under his breath.

"What was that Tommy?"

"He said you're an asshole" replied Doug

"What, he lost the ability to speak now? Come on Tommy-"  
"Shut up"

"Oh he can speak!" cried Booker with mock surprise

"Look I gotta do this paperwork and so does everyone else so why don't you shut your trap for an hour or so? I know it'll be excruciating for you what with the whole 'need to hear your own voice' kick you're on but _we're_ all sick of hearing your whiny tone ok?!" snapped Hanson.

"ooh talk about high-strung!" laughed Booker

"Shut up Booker" snapped Judy

Booker smirked before lazily picking his pencil up.

Hanson was halfway through his second form when the squeaking started. He attempted to ignore it but grew more frustrated as the sound grew more insistent.

"Booker!" he cried angrily

"Yes?"

"stop it"  
"Stop what?" he asked with a grin pressing pencil into paper and scraping as he wrote.

"Just go sharpen your pencil man, its annoying" snapped Hanson

"Oh, you think it's blunt?"

"SHARPEN IT!" screamed Hanson angrily, "JUST SHARPEN IT AND STOP THE GOD DAMN SQUEAKING!"

"Calm down Tommy" muttered Doug softly.

"Yeah calm down Tommy" repeated Booker, "I'll sharpen my pencil if it bothers you so damn much, no need to cry about it"

"I'm not crying" snapped Hanson defensively

"Whatever" laughed Booker; he came back from sharpening his pencil and sat on the edge of Hanson's desk.

"I'm bored" he announced

Hanson looked around the room in disbelief. Someone had to be seeing this; someone else had to be as annoyed as he was by this idiot sat in front of him.

"So go do some work" said Doug not looking up from his form

"Let's play a game" suggested Booker

"I'd go for hangman" snapped Hanson

"Really?"

"Yeah someone give me a rope, I'll gladly tie it round your neck" he spat.

"Very funny Thomas. I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare. Wanna play?"

Hanson pretended to mull the idea over.

"umm….no" he snapped

"Come on it'd be fun!"

"Booker, this isn't some sort of slumber party, this is a Police office!" snapped Judy

"Yeah and it's boring! Come on don't you think we've done enough work for one day?" asked Booker

Hanson sighed.

"I'll play" shrugged Doug looking up

Hanson shot him a look. Doug returned the favour.

"We _have_ done enough work. Come on man, it'll be for like half an hour" said Doug

"yeah. You in Jude?" asked Booker

"Guess so" she muttered.

Hanson glanced up.

"Come on Tommy don't be a spoilsport"

"Booker I have forms to fill in and Fuller-"

"Are you scared?"

"What?!"

"Are you scared?" repeated Booker smirking

"No!" snapped Hanson

"So play"

"ALRIGHT! _Alright_ I'll play your stupid, childish game, then will you leave me alone?!" cried Hanson

"sure" smiled Booker, "I'll even let you go first"

"Gee thanks" snapped Hanson sarcastically

"You want truth or dare?"

"Truth" sighed Hanson.

"ooh truth. _There's_ a surprise" said Booker sarcastically

"Look just ask a damn question!" snapped Hanson

"Jesus you really are a high strung son of a bitch aren't you?" laughed Booker

"is that the question?" snapped Hanson

"No, I'm thinking of one"

Booker deliberated for a few moments.

"ok, where's the most outrageous place you ever had sex?"

"You're so mature Dennis" snapped Judy

Hanson bit his lip.

"Come on Tommy it can't be that hard" smirked Booker

"fwatahpwark" he muttered biting his thumb nail

"where?"

"Water park" muttered Hanson clearing his throat.

"You had sex in a _water park_?" asked Booker

"yes" snapped Hanson embarrassed

"With who?" asked Doug

Hanson rolled his eyes

"It wasn't like I went out last week and screwed some random guy behind the water slide!" snapped Hanson, "It was a long time ago; I was like eighteen, nineteen-"

"Yeah but still, _Tom Hanson _having sex in a water park-"

"ALRIGHT" cried Hanson angrily, "I've played your stupid game now leave me alone"

"next victim" laughed Booker

Hanson slouched down in his seat ignoring the game and refusing to participate. Damn Booker and his stupid, probing questions. He hated him. He really did. Why'd he have to remind him about that day?

"_Aren't you coming in?" calls Tom his hair drenched, the water running down his chest in rivulets. _

"_Happy just looking at the view"_

"_Come on man" laughs Tom grabbing him by the hand and yanking him into the pool. _

"_Ok now, NOW you're gonna get it!" snaps the older man, his eyes gleam with excitement, with anticipation. _

_He swims confidently after his teenage lover, catching up to him and engulfing him with his powerful arms. _

_He drags him off into an unused, part of the pool, beneath the water chute, draping his arms around Tom's slender shoulders kissing him passionately around the ridge of his collar bone. He pulls the teenager in closer._

"_Turn around" he whispers hoarsely._

_Tommy starts_

"_Why?"_

"_Why'd you think? Turn around" he whispers hoarsely_

"_Here? Now?" whispers Tom, his voice quivering_

"_Come on Tommy it'll be fun" he whispers untying the younger man's shorts slowly._

"_What if someone catches us-?"_

"_It'll be ok, honestly Tommy" he whispers sliding a hand lower_

_Tom gives in knowing he's powerless against his lover and his touch._

"Hanson!"

"wha-" Hanson started from his memory

"Come on, it's nearly time to clock out" said Doug

"You called me Hanson"

"I always call you Hanson when you're being a pain in the ass" retorted Doug a smile playing on his lips.

Hanson smiled weakly. He had a lot of making up to do with Doug. He had been a jerk most of the day. He'd fix things once they got home he reassured himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've had issues trying to upload documents. I hope near the end of this chap it doesnt get to graphic for a T rating. If it does, let me know and I'll put it up to an M. Hope you like the chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviews, I always appreciate it :-D

* * *

**

" What do you want for dinner?" asked Hanson as he started the Mustang. They'd clocked out on time, reassuring Fuller that their extra 45 minutes had been caught up.

" Food"  
Hanson shot his partner a look.

" What t_ype_ of food?" he snapped

" Why? You gonna make it?" asked Doug

" Yeah"

" Oh great. I better enjoy the last few hours of my life" teased Doug

" You know I dunno why I even bother-"  
" Calm down Tommy I was just joking!"

There were several seconds of silence.

" Spaghetti" mumbled Doug

" What?"

" Spaghetti. It's what I want for dinner" said Doug clearing his throat.

" Ok" concurred Hanson quietly

" What's wrong?"

" Nothing" murmured Hanson

" Come on, something's up-"  
" Will you just leave me alone?! NOTHING is wrong"

" fine" snapped Doug. He stormed into the house and barricaded himself in the spare room. If Hanson wanted to be a jerk he could be a jerk. Hanson heard Doug banging around, obviously playing pin ball.

He sighed and went into the kitchen. Let him sulk, see if he cared.

" Doug!" he hollered . No reply came from upstairs. Frustrated, Hanson climbed the stairs and shoved open the door to the spare room, originally intended for visitors, but more often than not used as a sanctuary during their petty spats.

" Doug?"

Doug turned from the game

" What?" he snapped

" You hungry?"

" No"

" Come on man, don't be a jerk" snapped Hanson

Doug turned back to the game tilting furiously, venting his frustrations on the innocent game.

" Fine, I'm gonna go eat and your _stupid_ spaghetti'll just go all cold and claggy and you wont have anything to eat just cause you're a stubborn son of a bitch!"

" I'll make myself something" muttered Doug

" Yeah enjoy your sandwich then"

Doug laughed, Hanson knew him too well.

" Your cheese sandwich" continued Hanson a smile playing on his lips

" ok, ok I'm coming" laughed Doug. He followed Hanson downstairs, tension diffused.

" what's this?" he enquired looking at the plate before him

" Spaghetti"

" no these are spaghetti _hoops_, on _toast_" complained Doug

Hanson laughed.

" You never stated what type of spaghetti you wanted. You asked for spaghetti, I gave you spaghetti"

" Oh are you giving me whatever I want now?"

" Within reason"

" To make up for being a jerk?" enquired Doug knowingly. Hanson nodded.

Doug grinned and slurped up a spoonful of spaghetti.

" Don't do that!" chastised Hanson

" But I want to" smirked Doug.

" geez I give an inch and you take a mile" snapped Hanson

" And you love me for it" grinned Doug

" That's what you think" teased Hanson

" Shut up and eat your food" joked Doug

" I would cept I get distracted by the disgusting noises you make. I mean why you gotta _slurp_ it?!"

" Its spaghetti! How the hell else do you eat spaghetti?"

" You could try _chewing_ it. You might actually taste it that way"

" I know what spaghetti tastes like" shrugged Doug

Hanson sighed. It was well trodden ground. Doug ate like a pig and there was no way round it.

" Could you at least slurp quietly?"

" I'll try"

" That's all I ask" laughed Hanson

" You're quite privileged you know. I actually modify my table manners for you"

" What?!" cried Hanson

" I could be a _lot _worse"

" You couldn't possibly be" snapped Hanson

" Wanna see?" taunted Doug waving a spoon of spaghetti hoops threateningly

" NO! _no_! I believe you" cried Hanson.

" Too late" crowed Doug, and with that he flung the food in Hanson's direction.

" You PIG!" gasped Hanson flinging a spoonful back.

" FOOD FIGHT!" cried Doug throwing a soggy,spaghetti coated piece of toast in his boyfriend's direction.

Ten minutes later the fight came to an abrupt end. With no more food to fire Doug relented secure in the knowledge of his victory. He had managed to cover Hanson from head to toe in bits of food.

" I WON!"

" You must be so proud"

" You look ridiculous Tommy" laughed Doug

" Yeah well so do you" retorted Hanson

" No but see _you_ lost" gloated Doug

" I _know_"

" You lost. Badly. I mean-"

His words were cut off when Hanson's lips met his own. A hard passionate kiss ensued.

" Wow" muttered Doug when he let him go, " What was that in aid of?"  
" Had to make you shut up somehow"

" wow"

" Evidently it did not work" laughed Hanson

" Try it again"

" Later. Now I'm going to shower" teased Hanson.

" You have spagehetti hoops in your _hair_" exclaimed Doug pulling one out gently.

" Which is why I'm going to shower" laughed Hanson

" Let me come"

"nah uh" refused Hanson

" I'll get lonely down here by myself" pouted Doug.

" Doug I need to shower, I have to wash my hair, I-"  
he faltered. Doug was staring at him with those puppy dog eyes. Those beautiful eyes that Hanson could never resist no matter how hard he tried.

" You said you'd give me anything I asked. To make up for being a jerk" Doug reminded him.

" _Within reason_" stressed Hanson

" Yeah well what's unreasonable about a little shower sex?"

" You're so subtle" Hanson laughed.

" Come on, you did it in a water park!"

Hanson rolled his eyes. He was regretting ever mentioning that in front of Doug.

" Doug-"

" _Tommy_" whined Doug

" I just want to shower" said Hanson weakly, " Can't I shower and _then_ we do whatever you want?"

" You _promise_?"  
" Yes"

" Whatever I want?"

" Whatever you want" agreed Hanson. Pacified Doug sat on the couch.

" Get off there!" cried Hanson over the banister

Doug stared up at him in surprise

" you're covered in crap, get off the sofa!"

Doug tutted but did as he was bid, he didn't want to be faced with the prospect of cleaning the sofa. Housework was more Hanson's forte anyway.

Hanson stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to rain down on his tired and spaghetti coated body.

God he was sick of his mind kicking into overdrive, hurtling backwards into the past, opening the chamber of his mind where the hurt and the pain was sealed. Except it wasn't sealed, all the memories were seeping through and the pain was as fresh and as raw as it had been when he'd been eighteen.

He turned the power up on the shower head allowing the scalding water to numb him.

He wished it had the same effect on his mind.

He was just finishing rinsing the soap suds from his hair when he heard the sharp rap on the door.

" Tommy? You drowned in there?"

Hanson laughed. He loved that about Doug, he was constantly checking he was ok. Eventhough it took a lot to make Hanson open up, to make him discuss what was really bothering him, Doug would always persist in checking, even humorously. And even though Hanson wanted to be left alone more often than not he appreciated that his boyfriend cared about him enough to ask.

" I hear laughter! HE IS ALIVE!" boomed Doug theatrically

Hanson wrapped the towel around his waist and unlocked the door. His shower well and truly interrupted. He'd be mad except for the fact that Doug was gazing at him almost adoringly. Well if he didn't know him better he'd say adoringly. Hanson knew his boyfriend was caught amidst love and lust.

" Put your tongue back in" joked Hanson

" you'll have to put some clothes on" retorted Doug

" Okey dokey" grinned Hanson, " Shower's all yours"

" I hate you"

" Really?" smiled Hanson. He kissed doug long and hard, knotting his long brown hair in his fingers. He broke free and padded across the hallway, dripping water across the carpet as he did so.

" _Now_ I really hate you!" called Doug

" Aww poor baby" mocked Hanson shutting the door. He dragged out some fresh clothes from the wardrobe and began to get dressed, he was hopping about; left leg in a pair of jeans and right leg out when Doug opened the door.

" Nice jeans"

" I thought you were showering" said Hanson almost falling over.

" I showered" grinned Doug, " See?"

" What, the wet hair? Wet hair don't mean squat" laughed Hanson

" Ah but see I smell appley fresh"

Hanson had to smile.

" You cant just make words up!" he cried pulling his jeans on

" This coming from the guy who frequently yells Slam-a-rino and okey dokey?" teased Doug

" You have a point"

" You know those jeans look real good on you but I know somewhere they'd look a damn sight better" muttered Doug

" where?" asked Hanson suspiciously.

" On the floor"

Hanson looked from his boyfriend, to his jeans and then to the floor before lazily returning his gaze to Doug. He zipped them up defiantly.

" You want them on the floor? You take em and put em there" he said pulling the white tee-shirt over his bare chest.

" That a challenge?"

" Maybe"

" You do know that it is pointless playing this game? That I'll chase you all around the house for like half an hour, wrestle those jeans off your cute little ass and then, well, words can't describe what I'll do to you. I'll simply have to show you"

" What can I say? I like games "shrugged Hanson, "Anyway, who says you're gonna catch me?"

" I _always_ catch you"

" nah uh, I _let_ you catch me." Hanson corrected him, before he took off running

" Cheat!" hollered Doug chasing after him.

_They'd been dating six months before he managed to convince Tom to "out" himself to his mother. It was then that Tom got to see the darker side of his boyfriend. He'd come with the teenager, offering moral support. They'd sat side by side in the living room, his mother sat on the armchair nearest the door, her face white and pinched as Tom stumbled through his announcement. _

" _What?" she gasped, her voice barely audible. _

" _I'm gay" murmured Tom his voice low _

" _And, and-" stammered his mother indicating the 22-year-old sat beside her son, " You're d-dating?" _

" _As well as other things" muttered the elder man slyly. Tom stared at him , stricken. _

" _Don't!" he hissed _

_His mother looked devastated._

" _are you sure this is what you want Tommy? You're not being pressured into doing something you don't want to are you?" questioned his mother worriedly. She clutched at straws. She'd never liked this man, this man who was so much older than her son and so much more controlling. He was polite and charming but he was smarmy. There was something sinister about him which she couldn't quite place. _

" _Mom I love him" said Tom quietly, " He never makes me do anything I don't want to" _

_Margaret Hanson sighed. Her son was eighteen, old enough to make his own decisions; she just prayed he was making the right choice. She didn't want to see her baby get hurt, _

" _We're gonna go in my room" muttered Tom uncomfortable._

" _Ok" _

" _Are you ok Mrs. Hanson?" he asked her with a smile. _

" _I'm fine thank you" she spat the answer out, " It'll just take some time getting used to is all."_

" _Yeah. It took my mom months to accept the guy I was fucking. She wouldn't even let him in the house" _

_Tom's eyes widened in shock. His mother glanced at her son and his lover. She had to fight the urge to physically evict this man from her house. _

" _I, I'll go to my room" stammered Tom grabbing his boyfriend by the arm and yanking him from the room. _

_He slammed his bedroom door behind them. _

" _what the hell was that?!" screamed Tom furiously_

" _I was just putting her mind at rest" _

" _By telling her we've had sex?!" snapped Tom, " How'd you think that's gonna make her adapt to me being gay any quicker?" _

" _stop yelling at me Tommy" _

" _I've got a right to yell at you! You upset my mom, she didn't need that on top of-"_

" _I'm warning you Tommy"_

" _You can't tell me what to do!" cried Tom angrily_

" _STOP YELLING!" _

_It happened far too fast for Tom to prevent it. The crack resounded around the small room as the palm of his hand made contact with the teenager's face. His breath came out in a whimper as the pain caught up with the blow and tingled down the left side of his face. He clutched his cheek, red and sore, and stared in shock. _

" _Turn around" _

" _No" choked Tom. _

" _TURN AROUND!" _

" _No!"_

_He gasped in pain as he clutched him, spun him round to face the wall and pinned him there. _

" _Get off me" whimpered Tom, his face pressed against the wall, struggling feebly. His cries fell on deaf ears as he felt his boyfriend undo his jeans and rive them down around his ankles, he heard him unzip his own and then he felt the excruciating pain as he entered him roughly. In and out. In and out. They'd had sex before but this was something different. This wasn't born out of love, this stemmed from anger and violence. He felt as if he was suffocating in hatred, he could feel the heavy presence of his boyfriend, weighing down on his slender frame, ramming his fragile body into the wall repeatedly._

_It lasted a few minutes but seemed to last years, pain and fear distorting the teenager's perception. _

_He rived the youngster backwards by the hair as he finished his torture_

" _You do what I tell you, you hear me?" he snarled, his breath warm on the back of Tom's neck._

" _Yes" Tom emitted a strangled sob as his boyfriend shoved him savagely against the wall one last time. _

_He zipped up his jeans and left the bruised and battered teen alone in the room. Tom heard the front door slam as he sank to the floor, dissolving into sobs of anguish and despair, fingers over lips to prevent his mother hearing his torment. _

Hanson awoke with a start, heart racing, his hair soaked in his own sweat. He gulped deeply, panting with fear. The memory was so vivid and painful. So very raw even now.

"Tommy?"

Hanson jumped. He looked over to where Doug lay, bleary eyed and disorientated. Confusion and concern was etched all over his sleep riddled face.

"You were shouting in your sleep" murmured Doug, " You ok?"

" I had a bad dream" whispered Hanson his breathing slowing to normal, " I didn't mean, I'm sorry I- "

His words merged into one panic filled whimper.

" It's alright" hushed Doug, " Come here"

Hanson did as he was bid and Doug wrapped his warm arms around him, hugging him tight, pulling his lean body close to his own.

" Go to sleep ok babe?" whispered Doug gently. He stroked his hair soothingly. Hanson felt the fear melt momentarily, Doug would never hurt him. Doug loved him unconditionally. He relaxed in Doug's strong, safe arms. After a few moments he felt the power of sleep overwhelm him. Doug was not so lucky. He didn't know what was plaguing Hanson but he wished he'd open up and tell him. He'd really freaked him out thrashing around and screaming like that in his sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

He looked down at his sleeping face, the nightmare seemed forgotten and this time Hanson looked like he was sleeping peacefully.

Doug supposed he should be thankful for small mercies.

The alarm went off at 6am. Doug shifted his body slowly, desperate not to wake Hanson just yet. He padded across the room and whacked the offending alarm into silence. Hanson stirred, sitting up, shrouded by the duvet his hair stuck up at odd angles.

" Wha' time's it?" he yawned

" Just after six"

Hanson stretched.

" Sorry about last night"

" It's ok. Wanna talk about your dream?" asked Doug concerned.

" I cant remember it" lied Hanson getting out of bed.

" Tommy-"  
" I'm gonna go get ready" said Hanson swiftly. He grabbed his jeans from the night before, clean underwear and shirt from the drawer and went in the bathroom locking the door behind him.

" Hanson, Booker my office!"

Hanson shot a look in Booker's direction. This wasn't a great start to his day at all. He'd already been interrogated within an inch of his life by Doug this morning. Now he was gonna catch hell off Fuller_ and _have to spend time with Booker? Perfect.

" shut the door" commanded Fuller. Hanson did as he was bid

" Wait til Booker's actually in the office Hanson!"

" Oh sorry" smirked Hanson

" Real mature Tommy" snapped Booker pushing open the door

" Hey you're the one who had us all play-" he faltered realising he was in the presence of their commanding officer. Fuller raised his eyebrows suspiciously but said nothing on the subject.

" Gentlemen, you're going on a case" announced Fuller dryly.

" Me and him?" asked Hanson doubtfully. He pulled a face.

" Hey being paired up with you ain't no picnic for me either you know! Captain why don't you just pair him up with his beau and let the whole " Hanson and Booker will be the best of friends" thing go?" snapped Booker

" Because I said you two are working on this case! And I don't appreciate your tone Booker. Now we're going after a drug dealer in Jefferson High, very brutal. Connected to some of the neighbourhood gangs" began Fuller

" I wanna work with Doug" muttered Hanson interrupting

" _I_ want you to work with Doug!" snapped Booker

" I don't care what you want!" barked Fuller annoyed, " You're professional police officers so start acting like it. You'll go in as cousins, just transferred in from Riverside High. You were suspended for drug dealing in your previous school-"

" Captain, you know what'd be great for this case?"

" put a sock in it Hanson"

" The McQuaid Brothers would be good on a case like this" continued Hanson

" READ MY LIPS. YOU ARE WORKING WITH _BOOKER_ . HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?"

" As crystal" muttered Hanson sulkily

" The who brothers?" asked Booker confused

" The McQuaid Brothers" repeated Hanson

Booker shot him a look.

Hanson gave an exaggerated sigh.

" you know, we're the McQuaid Brothers HEH!" he cried

Booker looked from Hanson to fuller.

" seriously? You're gonna make me work with him? _Seriously_?!"

" Gentlemen, learn the art of team work" snapped Fuller dryly

" I already know how to work in a team. I work in a team all the time. Captain please can I work with Penhall?"

" No"

" Hoffs?"

" _Hanson_!"

" Ioki?"

" STOW IT HANSON! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR DAMN WHINGING FOR ONE MORNING!"

Hanson kicked the leg of the chair furiously.

" I don't _want _to work with Booker!" he cried angrily

" How old are you, six?"

" Shut up Booker!" snapped Hanson

" Well look at you Tommy, throwing a tantrum cause you can't work with your boyfriend"

" Do _not _call me Tommy"

" Oh ok Sport"

Hanson lunged for him

" HEY! HEY! HANSON GET OFF HIM!" shouted Fuller .

" He knows he's not to call me that. He knows!" panted Hanson irefully. He released him swiftly.

" Why can't I call you that?" asked Booker feigning ignorance

" Booker" warned Fuller

" come on Hanson why don't you like being called _sport_?" asked Booker deliberately emphasising the offending word.

" captain, I _swear_ if you partner me up with him you're gonna have one less officer at the chapel" snapped Hanson

" Oh what you gonna do? Cry on me?" scoffed Booker

" Fuc-"

" Hanson!"

" Fuck him! Fuck you and fuck your stupid damn case as well!" cried Hanson heatedly

" You are _way_ outta line Hanson!" roared Fuller furiously

" yeah well what about him?!" yelled Hanson

" The pair of you!" snapped Fuller exasperated.

" I didn't even do anything." muttered Booker

" shut up"

" _Both_ of you shut up!" cried Fuller angrily, " Now I dunno what it is between you two-"

" Why don't you just go back to IAD and stab some more people in the back ?" snapped Hanson furiously turning his attention back to Booker

" Oh that's rich, you're the one who buddys up to these teenage kids and then turns them in"

" For breaking the law!" cried Hanson

" Well what do you think I do?!" retorted Booker, " I only ever turn in officers who break the law. You're just lucky I didn't take _your_ badge"

" You think you could take my badge for-"

" I _know_ I could take your badge for breaking and entering yeah!" interrupted Booker heatedly.

" ENOUGH!" roared fuller

" Nobody wants you here at Jump Street anyway" spat Hanson bitterly.

" You want me to go back to IAD and report all the crap I've seen you do here? Huh Tommy? I'm sure they'd love to hear how you guys operate down here, how the rules are so _loosely_ followed by _certain_ officers" snapped Booker his eyes flashing dangerously.

" NO ONE IS TURNING REPORTS OVER TO IAD!" bellowed Fuller, " Booker is part of the Jump Street unit Hanson and you've gotta learn to accept that. He is your partner, you understand me? Partner. He's not your rival, he's your collegue. You guys need to get your acts together and focus on what's important here. You're supposed to enforce the law. That's the profession you both chose. Now if you wanna fight with each other, tear each other to shreds and slander each other's characters I suggest you go retrain as Lawyers guys cause Jump Street doesn't want or need those types of skills"

Hanson glanced at Booker.

" I can work with anyone. Anyone but him"

" Well I'm sorry Hanson but you're gonna have to learn to work with him" snapped Fuller firmly.

" What if I refuse? What then?"

" Then you're going on desk duty"

Hanson frowned at the injustice of the whole sordid situation.

" FINE! I'll work with Booker!" he snapped angrily.

" Oh lucky, lucky me!" chanted Booker clapping his hands sarcastically

" PUT A SOCK IN IT BOOKER!" roared Fuller.

" Ha!"

" HANSON!"

" What? I was rehearsing-"  
" I don't wanna hear it Hanson" snapped Fuller cutting him off, " Now, can I get back to briefing or do you two still have childish insults to fling around the office?"

The two young officers exchanged looks but remained silent.

" Like I said, you're going in as cousins. The dealer we're after is Reggie Walkins. Booker you're about to become this guy's best customer. Now there's a rumour going around that Walkins' girlfriend….a Tiffany Carter is also in on the gig. Hanson, you're her new interest"

" why me?" sighed Hanson

" Maybe she wants a gay best friend to go shopping with" suggested Booker snidely

" I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that Booker" snapped Fuller

" Can't _he_ be this girl's new interest?" asked Hanson

" No"

" _Why_?" snapped Hanson

" Not her type" shrugged Fuller

" She goes for gay guys?"

Hanson glared at Booker.

" You got a problem why don't you just come out and say it?!" he snapped

" No, no problem." smirked Booker, " I just like seeing that riled look you get"

Hanson shot Fuller a pleading look.

" You're still working together. Booker with Walkins, Hanson with carter. You're her type Hanson, I'm sorry but that's just the way it goes" said Fuller . Hanson gave a frustrated sigh which fuller just ignored.

" I want a good, clean bust gentlemen. No screw ups and NO fighting on duty!"

Booker and Hanson just glared at each other.

" Get outta my office guys" sighed Fuller. Just as they were leaving he passed them both a manila folder each containing more details on the case. He knew it was futile attempting to keep the pair in the office together any longer. He didn't fancy having blood on his hands when one of them killed the other anyway.

Hanson sat down at his desk and began flicking through the folder an unreadable look on his face.

There was a picture of a white girl smiling back at him. She didn't look like a criminal, she looked like an all american girl; probably a cheerleader. Hanson's heart sunk. She was gonna tear him to pieces.

He read what little information there was on Tiffany in silence. She came from a good neighbourhood, got good grades and had well respected parents. She was on the track team and the cheerleading squad.

She'd started dating Walkins about a year ago. Six months ago she'd called the police to her parent's house. The brief paragraph allocated to the incident described it simply as "a domestic" between the young couple. Hanson leaned back in his chair and sighed. So _this_ was why he was her type.

Was it really so clear to see?

Had it really left that strong a mark on him?

He shut the folder angrily. He didn't want this all dragging up, he didn't want to revist that period ever again.

He'd heard of domestic violence, he'd even seen the effects of it when under training at the academy. He'd hated seeing those women who were controlled by their partners, beaten into submission and stripped of all self confidence. They were like wispy shadows of their former selves, all glimmer of hope gone from their once radiant eyes. Hanson had hated the whole sorry situation. It pierced him to the core, the tragedy of the whole thing. He'd never stopped to think that it could happen to a _man_. It had never even crossed his mind to think that something like that could affect him.

Not until he'd become the recipient of brutal beatings and psychological abuse.

He closed his mind to the memories ,desperately trying to block the images flashing before him like some sort of twisted horror movie. He could still feel the fear overwhelm him if he let himself get dragged back far enough, could still taste the mixture of blood and tears, hear the cold, crisp taunts, blow after blow to his body and self confidence.

" _Tommy!" he slurred _

_Tom's heart gave an involuntary leap of fear as he heard his drunken boyfriend arrive home. He lay there submerged under the covers and tried his hardest to feign sleep. _

_The biggest mistake he'd ever made was to believe the 22-year-old when he said the incident in his room was a one off, that he was sorry and that it'd never happen again. He'd been sweet and loving for weeks afterwards, had even managed to convince Tom to move in with him. _

_Then behind closed doors and away from the protection of his mother had the slaps turned into punches and the punches turned to beatings. _

_He wondered how many more people were gonna buy his stories of "walking into doors" to explain away his bruises. _

_The bedroom door slammed open, disrupting Tom's chain of thought and the room was flooded with light. _

" _GET UP!" _

_Tom's whole body stiffened beneath the covers, his heart racing with fright. He lay still._

_He felt the covers whipped from his lean body and opened his eyes to see the bloodshot, rage filled eyes of his boyfriend staring back at him._

" _I told you to fucking GET UP!" he snarled spraying him with spit. Tom flinched backwards infuriating him further. _

_He grabbed the teenager by the arm and yanked him roughly from the bed. Tom landed on the floor with a nauseating thud, his arm twisted up behind him. He gasped in pain. _

" _You stupid fucking shit GET UP!" _

" _I c-c-can't" stammered Tom, " Y-you have to l-let go" _

" _DID I TELL YOU TO SAY SOMETHING?!" he roared_

_Tom bit his lip, his brow creased in pain. If he answered he'd get beaten, if he didn't answer he was being insolent. One thing his lover definitely wouldn't tolerate was his whimpering. _

_After several agonizing seconds Tom felt himself dragged upwards from the floor, his legs felt like jelly and his stomach gave a jolt of terror. What the hell was he gonna do to him tonight?_

_They ended up in the living room._

" _Sit there!" commanded the elder man _

_Tom sat on the sofa silently, pressing his knees together to stop them shaking. He gulped deeply trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. _

_His boyfriend sat in the arm chair opposite him rolling his cigarettes casually._

" _You've been a bad boy Tommy" he said softly. There was a sinister edge to his voice. _

" _I didn't-" whispered Tom; the words stuck in his throat._

" _You didn't what Tommy? Didn't do as you were told?!" he snapped_

" _I didn't mean to go upstairs before you got home. I was tired. I, I just wanted t-to go to sleep. I didn't mean t-to" Tom couldn't stop his voice from trembling. _

" _Come here" _

_Tom froze, too terrified to move. _

" _COME HERE NOW!" he screamed. _

" _I don't want to" whimpered Tom his voice cracking. He saw the glint of disgust in his boyfriend's eyes._

" _You're pathetic" he sneered, " Look at you, crying like a baby."_

_Tom remained on the sofa_

" _DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO COME GET YOU!" _

_Faced with no other option Tom got off the sofa and stood tentatively near the arm chair. _

" _Kneel down" _

" _n-no" _

_He saw stars as the fist made contact with the side of his head._

" _KNEEL DOWN"_

_Shaking, Tom did as he was told. _

" _close your eyes" _

_Tom knew resisting was futile, that it only enraged him further. He shut his eyes._

_He felt the cigarette ash engulf him within clouds of smoke and then, then he felt the cold metal against his ear. His heart pounded with terror and he felt the nausea rise within him. _

" _open your eyes"_

_Tom opened them, his boyfriend brandished the gun in his face mockingly._

" _Guess where I got this Tommy-boy?" _

_His mouth went dry. Why did he have that? The academy had given him that for training, not for some sociopath to threaten him with. Tom gulped._

" _Come on GUESS!" he barked_

" _M-my room" stammered Tom. He yelped as the gun came crashing down on his slender shoulder._

" _No, not your room. MY room! I've told you before you thick shit, this is MY house!" _

" _Sorry. I'm sorry" babbled Tom his voice shaking, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He couldn't stop them from falling. _

" _You're always SORRY" he spat, " I don't think you even know what that means. You just say it. Do you know how much it hurts me having to punish you Tommy? Do you? All I want is a boyfriend I can be proud of and what do I get? I get YOU! A snivelling, worthless little shit who cant do a damn thing he's told" _

" _I can" sobbed Tom _

" _STOP CRYING!" he roared furiously. _

_Tom desperately tried to stifle his sobs. _

" _I SAID FUCKING STOP!" _

_There was a sickening crack as the gun made contact with Tom's face, grinding into the bone, he lay on the floor, blood trickling down his face intermingling with the tears. He gave a soft groan of pain. _

_His boyfriend stood over his cowering and convulsing body_

" _Maybe now you'll remember to do what I tell you first time I ask" he snapped callously. _

Hanson traced his finger gently along the scar on his forehead and down the bump on the bridge of his nose. Some of the more permanent reminders.

He emitted a shaky sigh.

He was so fucking stupid. He was in a loving relationship for God sakes. Why was he allowing himself to be taken back there? He was with Doug wasn't he? Sweet, caring Doug. Who didn't hit him, who didn't mock him and who didn't cheat on him.

So why couldn't Hanson get the idea out of his mind that even if he wasn't doing those things now then it would only be a matter of time before he did?

Damn Fuller and his stupid case. Damn Tiffany and her fucking domestics with her boyfriend. Hanson flung the folder further away from him, scared that if he read anymore he'd be ready to crack. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the office, oblivious that Doug had been burning holes into his back the whole time.


	6. Chapter 6

**My apologies a) for the shortness of this update and b) for the length of time it has taken me to update. I had many problems with my old laptop, plus I'm suffering from writer's block. I've also got a LOT of work to do for university so updates won't be as frequent as they once were though I will NOT be leaving any of my fan fics hanging unfinished. certainly not. LOL. Thanks to Goodnightmysweetprince for all her help ( love ya hun) and thanks to a sparrows soul ( luv ya too) , lynny, and ruby doo for loyally reviewing each chap LOL.Hope you like this little bit I've managed to scrape together.**

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Doug stood up several seconds later determined to find out what was going on. He left the warm building stepping over the threshold from the meticulous workplace, into the

overcast graying outside in search of Hanson.

He was sitting on the hood of the mustang, jacket wrapped around him tightly, as the wind whipped through his hair. Even from a distance Doug could see him shivering.

"Tommy?" he questioned softly.

Hanson's eyes flickered up from the ground swiftly; startled from his daydreams.

"You ok?"

"Uh huh"

"You don't look too ok" said Doug quietly. He positioned himself beside his lover, leaning against the hood.

Hanson sighed.

"I just wanted out of the chapel for a few moments ok? I was processing the case details-"

"Case details?"  
" Me and Booker going on a case" mumbled Hanson by way of explanation.

"You and Booker?!" cried Doug, "But I thought Fuller promised the Tracey Edwards' case was the last time-"

Hanson remained mute. His eyes cast downwards, back to the wet, grey tarmac. Doug followed his gaze; stupidly expecting to see the roots of Hanson's troubles splayed out on the ground before him. It was as if looking in the same direction as his partner would explain his closed and depressed state of mind; that the key to unlocking and unearthing Hanson's nightmares would be lying there, shining like a beacon under some otherwise dark and dampened canopy of sorrow.

"Don't ask me again"

Doug broke his gaze first; Hanson seemed to have the ability to look vacantly at one spot whilst deep in thought. The benefits it appeared, of being able to multi task.

"What?"

"About the dream" explained Hanson, still not breaking his gaze from the floor

"What are you looking at?!" Snapped Doug. His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears and he regretted the tone he used be it out of exasperation or worry he couldn't quite tell.

"Just the ground" murmured Hanson his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at Doug's worried albeit confused face.

"You're upset" he stated

"No I'm not" lied Hanson

"Hanson this is _me_ you're talking to!"

"Oh for a minute there I thought I was talking to Judy" said Hanson sarcastically.

"Hanson-"

"WHAT?" he exploded

"Don't talk to me like that" snapped Doug. He saw a flicker in Hanson's eyes as life seeped back into them. They danced and burned with a mixture of fear and defiance, of resentment and remorse.

"Or what?" He challenged, "What will you do to me if I do?"

Doug's brow furrowed in perplexity.

"Why would I do something to you?" he asked, his voice steeped in bewilderment.

Hanson emitted a hollow laugh. The lack of mirth within it shook Doug, why was Hanson acting like this? So deadpan and strange. So damn out of character.

"Why _wouldn't_ you?" muttered Hanson eventually

"You're confusing me Tom"

"Yeah well it isn't hard" snapped Hanson harshly. Doug's eyes reflected the hurt and pain straight back into his own scorn filled ones.

"Why are you being like this?!"

"Like what?" asked Hanson

"This!" Doug gestured wildly with his hands.

Hanson stared at him as if he was mad.

"This?" he questioned imitating his frantic gestures, "I'm not the one doing _this._ You're the one waving your hands around like you're having some sort of fit"

"What the HELL is your problem?"

_What the hell is your problem Tommy? _

_WHY is it so hard for you to get a simple instruction right?_

_NO! I don't wanna hear your fucking snivelling AGAIN, why can't you just do it?!_

Hanson was overwhelmed with the memories, the yelling so loud and taunting that it buzzed in his ears punctuated by the vivid recollection of every sharp slap, callous kick and brutal beating.

"Tommy?"

Hanson jerked his head sharply. Doug's blurred outline loomed before him, his figure distorted by unwanted tears.

"What?" he spat the word out, the tears stinging bitterly.

Undeterred by his anger, able to see through his façade , Doug took Hanson's cold hand and knotted it within his own warm one ;kissing the knuckles gently and repeatedly, the torment strewn clearly across his own face mirroring Hanson's perfectly.

"Stop pushing me out" he begged softly, "Just let me in a little bit _please" _

Hanson clutched at his hand clawing desperately at his one life line to the present. To the one man who showered him with unconditional love, whose lips were used for kisses and conversation as opposed to demeaning and critical snarls, whose hands were used only for caresses and comfort instead of physical reprimands and torture.

Hanson swore he could hear his own heart breaking, for the one good relationship he'd ever had. It was all going to end. The certainty weighed heavy on his already fragile heart. It was only a matter of time before he sabotaged everything, leaving the beauty of love lying all around him in tatters and the shards of his and Doug's hearts in dissary on a mound of anguish and despair.


	7. Chapter 7

"Tommy?" the word came out in a whisper, floating on a cloud of icy breath.

Hanson blinked and his boyfriend's concerned face swam into focus.

"What's it from?"

" What's what from?" questioned Hanson, confusion etched on his pale face. He didn't understand why Doug was still here, sitting beside him in sub zero temperatures clutching the hand of an insecure and unresponsive partner.

"The scar" Doug said as he gently followed it with his free hand

Hanson pushed his hand away, he didn't want to feel Penhall's warm touch there; didn't want him tracing over the trails of dirt and grime still residing on his impure body.

"It was an accident" whispered Hanson, his heart hammering in his chest, "I did it when I was a kid"

" Looks like you got it a few years ago"

" What are you some sort of scars specialist now? You want me to show you the scar from when I had my appendix out so you can date it? Maybe you can make a log book of all my scrapes and bumps!" snapped Hanson sarcastically.

" Will you quit being so damn defensive Tommy?" retorted Doug. He felt Hanson quiver with fright… or cold he wasn't sure.

" Can I tell you something?"

The words were so quiet Doug had to strain his ears in order to catch them. He stared into his boyfriend's eyes, a chocolate swirl of fear and apprehension.

" Sure"

" If I tell you, I mean when I say this-" Hanson stammered.

"HANSON!" hollered Booker cutting him off, his distinct form loomed before them as he neared the mustang.

Hanson felt his confidence deflate, why had he been so stupid to think he could tell Doug about his past? Emancipation continued to elude him.

Hanson dropped his partner's hand as if he'd been burned; allowing the cold gasp of air to kiss and pinch at his exposed hand, all warmth and security torn from its grasp as Booker broke the tender moment.

"You actually gonna do any work today or are you too busy with your fuck buddy out here to care?"

" Don't talk to him like that"

Booker cast a blasé look in Doug's direction.

" I'm sorry was I talking to you?"

" Back off Booker"

Both Booker and Penhall turned in Hanson's direction. His eyes were hard and cold, an ardent black colour blazing there instead of the usual soft brown. His whole body stiffened, his demeanour of one who'd had enough. Of what exactly; Doug did not know. Maybe the sarcasm that seemed to splurge from Booker's mouth whenever he spoke.

"Little testy this morning aren't you?" mocked Booker. He was unfazed by Hanson's attitude, found the whole game alluring. It was more fun when Hanson challenged him than when he rolled over and obeyed the commands placed upon him.

Hanson slid his slender frame from the hood of the car and stared into the dusky mock-filled eyes of his tormentor.

" You wanna discuss the case all you gotta do is ask" he muttered, roughly shoving past the muscular man. Booker grabbed him by the arm sharply and Hanson froze, heart beating wildly. Doug jumped up off the car hood swiftly.

"Do it" mouthed Hanson breathlessly. He was sick of the pathetic games, he just wanted it over.

Booker's thin lips turned upwards languidly forming themselves into a cold smirk.

"Do what?" he whispered his warm breath crackling against Hanson's ear, sending shoots of electric fear through his body.

Doug cast a perplexing look at the pair; felt the roar of jealousy bubble up within him. Why was Hanson letting Booker touch him like that? Why were they whispering together?

"Let go of him Booker" he demanded.

Booker thrust Hanson from him as if the younger man was defiled in some way.

"No need to worry Dougie boy, I'm not gonna steal your beau away from you. He's not my type" taunted Booker, "I just need him to discuss the case we're working on together"

Hanson stood between the two rubbing his arm fiercely, trying to ease the pain.

"You can discuss things without touching him" growled Doug his face a glowing fire of fury.

"Jealous?" teased Booker

"Of _you_?" sneered Doug.

"I think-"

Hanson's words went unnoticed, drowning in the silence, blanketed by the thick atmosphere of tension.

"If you don't want me to touch your property why don't you make him a label?"

"Shut up Booker" said Hanson softly

"You could hang it round his neck; maybe he could have a bell so you could track his every movement-"Booker continued maliciously

"STOP IT!"

The words reverberated around the car park, an animalistic quality to them his voice both harsh and torn.

Booker grinned.

"No need to get so mad Tommy" he smirked

Hanson glared at him before inhaling deeply, almost panting with rage.

"I don't _belong_ to anyone" he spat forcefully.

Booker took a cigarette from his pocket and rolled it casually in his fingers.

"No?" he questioned

Hanson's eyes homed in on the object. It was such a throw away gesture.

He however, knew the connotations far too well.

He ran his tongue over his dry and cracked lips allowing the saliva to wash over them. He parted his plump lips slowly, sucking the breath in between his teeth.

"No, I don't" the words were slow and deliberate.

Booker placed the cigarette between his lips and held it there.

He cupped his hands around the lighter and with a spark continued the process of flooding his body with nicotine.

"Whatever" he said exhaling slowly. He held the cigarette in his hand, the smoke wafting around them, engulfing and encircling them.

"Can you stop blowing that crap in our faces?" snapped Doug. Hanson jumped. He'd forgotten his lover was even there.

Booker blew from the corner of his mouth deliberately sending another cloud of smoke in Doug's direction.

"What the hell is your problem?!" cried Doug his brows knotted together in fury

"What's yours?" asked Booker exhaling deeply.

Hanson's eyes darted between the two, his face a mask of fear.

"Doug" he whispered.

Doug's eyes remained locked on Booker. Hanson could see the cogs turning, could see Doug doing exactly what he himself had been doing for weeks to add two and two together to make five. The flicker of jealousy was burning bright in his eyes.

"Doug" he tried again.

"Your boyfriend wants you" said Booker flicking his cigarette to the ground. He extinguished it with his foot, grinding it into the tarmac.

"I can hear him" snapped Doug defensively.

"So _answer_ him!" snapped Hanson annoyed.

Doug turned to face him casting a stony look in his direction.

"What?" he snapped

Hanson parted his lips slowly before bringing them together again. He was too afraid to deny Doug's thoughts, to reassure him that he felt nothing but derision for Booker. He longed to tell Doug that he'd got his calculations all mixed up. But what was the point? How many times had Doug reassured him in the past few weeks that he wasn't out having sex with random guys in the clubs he haunted so frequently? And what comfort had that given_ him_? Absolutely none.

Hanson emitted a slow, trembling sigh.

"_What?!"_ repeated Doug harshly.

" Forget it" mumbled Hanson wearily, his gaze returned to the ground as Booker looked on.


	8. Chapter 8

Several terse seconds passed, Hanson's watch ticking in the silence, pounding in his ears, like the tell tale heart he had read about so many times undercover. Guilt was unshakeable. It clung to the soul. Shame was even worse. It embedded itself.

Booker broke the silence scuffing his foot against the tarmac, a deliberate attempt of annoyance, a blatant show of disrespect. He didn't give a damn what impression he had given Doug, was unconcerned that his relationship with Hanson was a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows. He didn't care and he sure as hell didn't understand it.

"Stop it"

Booker turned in the direction of the younger man whose body was inches away from his own. If he reached out he could brush his hip with his fingertips. A languid smile creased the corners of his mouth at the thought.

Hanson breathed in deeply, his chest rising and falling with fear. He knew that look and it terrified him.

"Hanson"

He turned, grateful for the distraction. His boyfriend's face stared back at him, clouded with anger, his eyes a blaze of jealousy, marred by illicit thoughts.

"I'm going back in the chapel. You coming or do you have _other matters_ to see to?"

"Doug don't" pleaded Hanson his voice low, his tone wistful.

"_I'm_ not doing anything." Snapped Doug he turned on his heel and fled. It was only when he got to the door that he realized his boyfriend hadn't even followed him. It hurt more than he thought it would. Hanson was his, not Booker's. Why hadn't he sided with him?! The battle lines were clearly drawn but Hanson was in the wrong trench. You weren't supposed to sleep on the same side as the enemy and Doug was petrified that's what Hanson was doing. He strode through the door, head down, refusing to allow them the satisfaction of seeing him turn around.

"You happy now?!" spat Hanson his voice laced with frustration.

Booker fiddled with the lighter in his pocket absentmindedly.

"No"

"Why'd you do it?" snapped Hanson his voice strained, "Why you gotta try ruin everything?"

"I'm not ruining anything Tommy. You do that all by yourself." Said Booker; his voice dripping with malice.

Hanson remained mute, his mind kicking into overdrive. Mind games weren't his forte. He didn't like them and he sure as hell couldn't play them. Yet he always unwillingly succumbed to them, felt himself cornered into them, trapped and suffocating in lies, deceit and torture.

"It's not me" he whispered finally.

"It will be" replied Booker quietly. He pulled the lighter from his pocket and flicked it on and off. Hanson felt himself drawn to the flame. It sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"See Tommy-boy what you forget is, I know you. I know what you're like"

"Don't call me that" croaked Hanson.

Booker smirked and snapped the lighter back into place, shoving it into his pocket haphazardly.

"What are you smirking at?" asked Hanson sounding much more confident than he felt. Booker gave a low chuckle, like a shark sensing blood he could see through Hanson's bravado in an instant.

"Just trying to see which emotion makes you look cuter. Anger or fear" replied Booker his thin lips forming themselves into a cold smile.

"I'm not afraid of you!" snapped Hanson. His eyes flickered downwards as he spouted the lie; he felt his lip tremble slightly. Booker seized his chance and stepped closer to his prey. He was so close Hanson could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

"You're not afraid?" he whispered

"N-no" stammered Hanson.

Booker smirked before pressing his lips into the nape of Hanson's neck. He kissed him softly several times.

Hanson pulled away swiftly as if burnt by Booker's intimate unwarranted touch.

"Don't touch me!" he cried furiously.

"Or what?" whispered Booker snaking an arm around the smaller man's shoulders, "What are you gonna do Tommy?"

"Get off me Dennis"

"What if I told you I wasn't going to let go?" Booker's breath crackled against his ear, "What if I told you that I was going to tell Doug, what then?"

"Tell him" replied Hanson his heart hammering in his chest.

"Tell him?" cried Booker in mock surprise. His lips came closer to Hanson's ear, his breath warm against his cold earlobe.

"Tell him about what you're really like? About how one, single, solitary touch-"

Booker traced his fingers down Hanson's back slowly emphasising each word; the younger man flinched violently as he desperately tried to squirm out of reach.

"Has the power to reduce you to tears?" continued Booker softly.

"Get off" Hanson pleaded. He was immediately eighteen again, vulnerable and powerless to prevent anything.

"But I'm having so much fun. You don't want to ruin my fun do you Tommy?"

His eyes flashed dangerously, all pretence of humour wiped away replaced by cold malice and menace.

"Let go of me now Dennis" hissed Hanson. He saw a flicker of annoyance pass over Booker's face; he knew he'd lost the power he once had. Hanson's heart gave a flutter of fear as he saw the smirk.

"Let go?" repeated Booker

Hanson nodded slowly. He gave a low gasp of pain as Booker tightened his grip on the younger man's arm digging his sharp nails into the tender flesh. He yanked him closer, his own body a fortress; his anger sending electric shoots of pain and fear through Hanson's contorted body.

"Don't tell me what to do Tommy. I don't like it." He seethed, he clutched tighter as Hanson squirmed desperately trying to rive himself from the older man's vice like grasp.

"I'm sorry" whispered Hanson. He glanced up into the rage filled face of Booker his eyes a whirlwind of worry, never ending circles of fear and distrust.

Booker remained undeterred, anger still burned brightly in his eyes which seemed blackened by hatred.

"You never did learn" he snapped furiously.

"You weren't teaching" stuttered Hanson, "Just abusing"

"Abusing?" spat Booker, "I didn't_ abuse_ you! I taught you what would be tolerated and what wouldn't. You snivelling twenty four hours a day wasn't my idea of fun. I didn't want to hear you're pathetic whinging. All you did was fucking cry!"

"All you did was w-was-"

Booker leaned in close positioning his body so that Hanson's arm was rived backwards behind him.

"Say it" he whispered maliciously, "Say what I did to you Tommy. How did I make you cry?"

"Let go" whimpered Hanson his voice low. He wasn't giving him the satisfaction of hearing him cry as he recounted the vile things he'd been subjected to during their two year relationship.

"Say it!" snarled Booker furiously.

"You can't make me"

"We both know I can" snapped Booker angrily. He dragged Hanson's arm further up his back.

Hanson screwed his face up tight and desperately tried to silence the moan of pain that was bubbling up from his throat.

"Let go" he choked

Booker twisted his arm sharply

"Please!" begged Hanson his voice cracking. He didn't understand, couldn't comprehend. Why was Booker still allowed to have this power over him? Why was he still getting this perverted pleasure out of his sadistic actions all these years later?

"You forgot your place _boy_" spat Booker viciously his words tainted with immense hatred, "You do as I tell you!"

Hanson closed his eyes and scrunched his face up desperately trying to quench the tears which he could feel building. He swallowed deeply as his throat tightened. The hot tears continued to prick at his eyelids but he wouldn't, couldn't let them fall. Not here, not like this.

He didn't realise he was holding his breath until he felt Booker release him. With a thud he fell to his knees as the loose bits of gravel crunched beneath his jeans. He inhaled deeply as he heard his tormentor leave. When he was sure he was gone he buried his face in his hands and let out a wail of despair before dissolving into sobs of fear, relief and shame. He didn't acknowledge the car park, the gravel beneath him or the fact that the chapel was several yards behind him. All he could see was the images of his past life clashing with his present in some sort of sick home movie. And all he could feel was the suffocating presence of Dennis Booker accompanied by the soul destroying knowledge that he'd never be free from him and that he never really had been.


	9. Chapter 9

**So sorry I haven't updated for a while. Hope this makes up for it. I will try get back into the habit of updating frequently. This chapter is quite nasty actually. I've really gone to town torturing poor Hanson. Well hope it doesn't turn some people off the story, but well you know me, I'm a sadistic angst loving freak LOL. Thanks to everyone who reviews my stories I love you guys and knowing that people are keen for me to write makes me feel good ( as well as guilty when I don't deliver :-D) again I'm sorry I'm lazy LOL. Anyway enough of my rambling. On with the chapter.**

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**­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­**His knees felt numb by the time he stood up, the damp denim sticking to his skin. He snuffled into his sleeve drying his eyes roughly.

Hanson walked back into the chapel silently and sat down at his desk; his body felt stiff and heavy. He kept his head down trying his best to merge into the background.

"Doug" whispered Judy

Doug ignored her. He knew what she was going to do. Judy Hoffs had a habit of assuming the role of amateur relationship counsellor.

"Doug" she hissed again

"What?!" he exploded furiously throwing down his pencil

"Hanson's ups-"  
" Not my problem" snapped Doug cutting her off harshly.

"He's your boyfriend!"

"Not if he keeps going the way he's going" muttered Doug darkly.

Hanson continued flicking through the manila file slowly; refusing to acknowledge the emotional time bomb waiting to be detonated between them all. He was good at that.

He started when he felt a heavy hand upon his slender shoulder.

"We need to plan the case Tommy" Booker's honeyed tones crawled into his ear. He shuddered involuntarily.

"Scared?" He continued his voice a gruff whisper.

Hanson parted his lips slowly but no denial would come, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't force the words out. Not now. Not when he knew that nothing had changed. After all these years Booker could still claim power over him, could still frighten him half to death and worst of all could make him feel so inferior.

Hanson gulped.

"Leave me alone"  
" Can't leave you alone Tommy. We're on a case", smirked Booker

"I'm gonna te-"  
" No you're not" snapped Booker roughly cutting him off, "You wouldn't have the guts to tell. Can you imagine it? I mean _really_ imagine it? Weak little Tommy Hanson going into the office. I mean what are you gonna say? 'Uh excuse me Captain Fuller I can't work with Booker because he hits me and I'm a baby. I need to work with Dougie; he's the only one who can look after me. I can't take care of myself so other people have to do it for me. Pathetic when you think about it isn't it?"

Hanson inhaled sharply. He couldn't stand this ridicule. He never could.

"I hate you"

"Oh! Oh _good_ one Tommy. That one _really_ cut deep. Seriously I'm devastated!" mocked Booker tightening his grip on Hanson's shoulder.

"Let go" hissed Hanson squirming. If he made enough noise surely someone in the office would turn in their direction. Booker dug his fingers into Hanson sharply.

"Move again if you dare" he whispered

Hanson froze and shut his eyes so tight that the world turned red against his lids.

"It's harassment" he muttered to himself silently.

"What did you say?"

"It's harassment!" repeated Hanson raising his voice angrily, "You can't bully me here, at work, it's against the law."

"Does that mean I can bully you elsewhere?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" screamed Hanson his heart fluttering in his chest.

Several officers turned in his direction and the general hubbub of the workplace lessened at the sound of his harsh and pleading tones.

Doug sought out Hanson's face as bemused as the rest of the office.

Booker released him swiftly and made his way back to his desk. Hanson glanced around the office desperately trying to stop his lip from quivering. He couldn't deal with this.

"Are you ok?" mouthed Doug above the heads of their colleagues who had resumed work.

Hanson shook his head, biting hard on his lower lip. Tiny droplets of blood formed, oozing onto his tongue. He scraped back his chair and bolted from the office.

Judy shot a significant look in Doug's direction. He lowered his head at her gaze and continued filling out the form he was working on trying his best to ignore the worried feeling that was rapidly descending on him; he pushed all thoughts of Hanson from his mind and scrawled another meaningless answer on the form.

Hanson crouched over the porcelain bowl and vomited in quick succession. He blinked back the tears and wiped his mouth roughly with his sleeve. He _was _scared. Truth be told he was petrified and with good reason.

He started when he heard the main door of the men's room slam open.

"Tommy"

Hanson pressed his fist to his mouth and bit down on the knuckle. If he was quiet, really really quiet then maybe he wouldn't find him.

"Come on Tommy I know you're in here" snapped Booker.

Hanson crept backwards silently until he felt his spine make contact with the pipes at the back of the stall. He brought his knees up to his chest, folded his arms across them and rested his head there.

"Ok Tommy you wanna play? Let's play. I'm gonna count to ten and if you still haven't dragged your scrawny little ass out here I'm gonna come drag your ass out for you. And trust me you wont like it when I do"

Silence greeted his announcement.

"Ok you had your chance Tommy-boy." Booker snarled angrily.

Hanson remained mute, curled up beside the cistern, his head low and his cheeks wet with tears.

"You think I won't find you Tommy? Come on how hard is it gonna be? There's only five stalls and you're skinny little butt's gotta be hiding in one of em. It's only a matter of time before I find you Hanson. Clock's ticking _boy,_" Booker's taunts seeped under the doorway and his words inched their way into Hanson's soul imprinting their threat at the core of the young man. The tears intensified.

"Are you behind door number one?" called Booker in a sing songy voice.

Hanson flinched as he heard the door of the stall at the far end crash into the wall the sound reverberating throughout the entire room. He tightened his grip on his knees.

"No, not there. Gee I wonder which door little Tommy's hiding behind? Come on Tommy, come out; come out wherever you are!"

Hanson bit into the side of his cheek desperately trying to stifle a sob. His mouth filled with blood and he swallowed, he barely risked breathing for fear of being found.

"Just remember you brought this all on yourself" warned Booker slamming open the second door. He cursed when he found it empty.

Hanson scrunched his face up gripping his knees as hard as he could, digging his finger nails into his knee caps. His palms were slick with sweat and his heart was thumping in his chest, pounding so loudly in his ears he was sure Booker could hear it too.

"I'm getting closer Tommy-boy. You hear that? Tick tock, tick tock. Time's almost up" called Booker mockingly.

Hanson raised his head slowly and blinked, his eyelashes clumped together due to the many tears he'd shed in such a short amount of time. He raised his hand slowly and wiped his cheeks. He silently willed someone into the bathroom. He didn't care who, Doug, Fuller, one of the temps, anyone, just one single solitary person was all it would take to stop this torment.

He recoiled swiftly as the door of the stall nearest to him banged against the wall so hard that it shook. He felt his lip quiver uncontrollably with fright and his heart sunk, heavy with dread.

"Only two doors left now Tommy" cried Booker gleefully. Hanson wished fervently that he'd locked the door to the stall he was in rather than just shutting it over.

With a crash the door burst open dousing Hanson in light. He blinked, his eyes travelling upwards locking with the rage filled orbs of Dennis Booker.

He licked his lips, savouring the moment. A perverse smile graced his lips.

" Found you Tommy" he chuckled.

Hanson waved his hands in front of his face, a pleading gesture, a beg of compassion which Booker swiftly ignored.

Booker grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into standing position, pressed him up against the wall of the small stall, pinning him there with a forearm across his slender throat.

Hanson gasped and choked, struggling to breathe in this vice like grip.

"What happened to you Tommy?" whispered Booker softly,

Hanson spluttered but found himself unable to respond. Booker increased the pressure maliciously leaning against him harder.

"Ah, ah, ah Tommy I didn't say speak now did I? My you have forgotten all of the rules of the game haven't you?" mocked Booker in a sing songy tone.

Hanson's eyes darted left to right quickly. He desperately needed an escape route. He recoiled as he felt the sharp sting of a slap against his head.

"Didn't tell you to move either" admonished Booker furiously, " Now, if you promise to be a really good boy, and don't move or scream, I might, _might _let go of your throat. Do you think you can do that Tommy?"

Hanson didn't know what he was supposed to do. When was he allowed to move? He couldn't talk with Booker's arm crushing his windpipe but he could try moving his head in response. If he was allowed. He didn't know if he was allowed. He nodded slowly as the tears snaked down his cheeks, forming like droplets of rain on Booker.

"Fucking STOP THAT!" screamed Booker furiously admonishing another round of stinging slaps.

He removed his arm and Hanson immediately clutched at his bruised and swollen neck in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain. He doubled over in pain as Booker belted him full force in the stomach.

"I told you not to move!" he hissed. His eyes narrowed into dark slits.

"Leave me alone" pleaded Hanson his voice nothing more than a croak, "Please Dennis, Please I haven't done anything I swear, I never told, I never, not my mom, not Doug, Not anybody! Please Dennis I just want to be left alone._ Please_!"

"You hear that?" interrupted Booker a look of pure disdain on his contorted face

"H-hear wha-"

"Time's up Tommy boy" snapped Booker coldly. He clutched Hanson by the shoulder and swung him round to face the wall, leaning heavily against him, pressing his slender body into the wood.

"Don't" gasped Hanson his voice betraying the immense fear he felt. He heard Booker undoing his fly.

"Don't!" cried Hanson his voice slightly louder. He struggled futilely under Booker's strong grasp, felt the kiss of cold air as his pants were rived around his ankles.

"Shut up Tommy" snarled Booker

"LET GO OF ME!"

"Shut UP Tommy!" repeated Booker harshly.

He groaned in pain as Booker entered him, didn't even bother trying to stifle the sobs or prevent the tears from raining down his cheeks as he was once again violated.

It seemed to last forever, pain distorting his perception.

With a sickening shudder finally it was over.

Hanson sunk to the floor his body convulsing with sobs, his nimble fingers shaking as he did up his jeans. He sobbed and sobbed unable to stifle them, unable to prevent the torment from spilling out of his every pore. Unable to prevent his face from becoming a mess of snot and tears.

Booker came back into the cubicle, his face a mask. His eyes the only source of emotion. The black coals burned bright with hatred and twisted pleasure. He flung a wad of tissue into Hanson's lap.

"Clean yourself up. You look pathetic. Snivelling like a fucking kid."

With that he walked out of the room, the door creaking behind him leaving Hanson to pick up the fragmented pieces of his heart and soul from the defiled and sordid bathroom floor. The only sound to be heard over the gurgle of the cistern was the frantic whimpers of a broken and battered man, stripped of all life and dignity.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok here we go another chapter. Before anyone wastes their time pointing out the fact that Default weren't around in the 80s I already know that LOL. SO my stories are anachronistic there's a revelation. The song fits in my opinion, it's angsty and personally I just wanted to include it LOL so that's why Hanson listens to It Only Hurts. Now (shamelessly segwaying into a youtube plug) if anyone would like to hear the song please go on youtube, type in it only hurts 21 jump street and watch my video I made ;-) feel free to comment. Ok shameful plug over. I hope people like this chap I mean I wasn't sure if Hanson should act this way or if he should just carry on like normal, oh well we're all wonderfully confused. Enjoy the chap boys and girls. Thanks again to everyone who reviews.**

_Can hold my breath, only for a little while_

_Until reality starts sinking in ….._

_One word, would end it if you ever heard_

_Tear the page out that reminds me_

_When I swore that I'd be strong_

_Now the next time has come and gone_

_Well maybe I'm wrong_

_I know it only hurts when your eyes are open_

_Lies get tossed and truth is spoken_

_It only hurts when that door gets opened_

_Dreams are lost and hearts are broken_

The music pounded through the house. Doug flung his keys on the counter and trod upstairs. Hanson hadn't been seen all afternoon. Not since he'd bolted from the office. Now Doug had arrived home at five o'clock greeted by the thudding bass of some depressing tune that Hanson had managed to dig out of his vast music collection. The music was coming from the bathroom.

"Tom?" he questioned lightly rapping on the door.

The only response was yet another line of angst filled alternative rock intermingled with the steady beat of the shower.

"TOM!"

_It only hurts when that door gets opened_

"TOM!"

_Dreams are lost and hearts are broken_

Hanson rived at his skin rubbing himself raw with the flannel. It wouldn't come off. It wasn't lifting. He couldn't rid himself of the smell and filthy touch which now coated his entire body. The stench of coffee and cigarette ash now permanently resided in his nostrils. He scrubbed harder, his skin beginning to break, tiny streaks of blood filtered in amongst the water swirling down the drain. It didn't hurt. When you couldn't feel nothing ever did.

And Hanson was adamant he wasn't going to feel ever again. He was keeping his eyes shut, the door closed and his emotions well and truly under lock and key.

If he couldn't feel then it couldn't hurt. He wouldn't let it hurt.

He couldn't let it hurt.

He had to pick up the pieces and glue them back together as quickly as possible. Bind his heart with sellotape and stick a band aid over the break. He'd done it before, he could do it again.

The banging began to seep into his consciousness as he scrubbed at his skin frantically.

He clicked the stereo off with one soap lathered hand allowing the banging to register fully.

"Tom?"

"Doug?" mouthed Hanson. He barely opened his cracked lips to free the syllable.

"You wanna open the door Tom?"

"No!" his voice rose several octaves, hysteria crept into his tone.

"Are you ok Tommy?" asked Doug softly

"I'm fine" called Hanson his voice strained.

"Are you sure? You don't sound fi-"  
" I'M FINE DOUG. I'M FINE. PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE. JUST _LEAVE ME ALONE_." cried Hanson; his voice catching. He sank down the wall so that he was sat in the cubicle knees splayed apart as cold water gushed down upon him. He sat shivering, allowing the water to wash over him wanting nothing more than for it to numb him completely ;freeze his feelings into oblivion, to wash the tears from his face.

"Tom open the door" said Doug gently.

"No" whimpered Hanson raking his fingers through his wet and sodden hair

"Please Tommy"

"No!"

"Tommy please. Please just let me in" begged Doug anxiously rattling the door knob.

"Leave me alone Doug. LEAVE ME ALONE!" screamed Hanson, he grabbed at his hair, yanking it until he felt the hot sear of pain tug at his scalp.

The tears rained down his face intermingling with the roaring water of the shower. The pounding beat of the water overpowered by the sounds of Booker's words whispered in his ears, by the heavy pants and threats, the taunts and jeers, they were so loud. Too loud. They were deafening him, he couldn't block them out.

He didn't hear the splinter of wood as Doug burst into the room, didn't register the absence of water raining down on him as his lover calmly shut off the shower. He didn't even start when Doug pulled him up from the cubicle, wrapping him warmly in a towel like a small child. He just stood, allowing Doug to pull him into some half hearted embrace. He didn't respond. He didn't struggle. Just stood limply in his boyfriend's arms leaving wet splodges on Doug's shirt where his tears rained down in a quick, silent succession.

Doug rocked him back and forth gently, his strong arms encircling him.

"It's ok Tommy, it's ok" soothed Doug gently. The lie slipped easily off his tongue. He steered Hanson slowly from the bathroom and tucked him up in bed wrapping the heavy duvet around his small and shaking torso. He grabbed a spare duvet from the airing cupboard and flung it over his feet. Swaddled in blankets Hanson stared up at him, his eyes blank but for the pinnacle of fear at the centre of them. The rims were red in sharp contrast to his pale face.

Doug reached out, tucking Hanson's hair behind his ear.

"Go to sleep babe" he whispered, "Go to sleep and when you wake up everything's gonna be ok I promise"

Hanson turned away from him, flinched from his lies and tucked his knees up to his chest curling himself into the fetal position. He dragged the blankets up over his head burying himself in the blackness, blocking all light and hope from his view.

Doug crept from the room and made his way to the living room. He cradled the phone in his lap drumming his fingers anxiously against the receiver before picking it up. He jabbed at the numbers praying feverishly that his call didn't go unanswered.

He spent the best part of an hour on the phone being soothed by Judy, only agreeing to leave the line when she suggested he go make dinner for Hanson who would surely be waking soon.

Doug trod upstairs softly balancing a bowl of soup in one hand whilst desperately jiggling the doorknob to the bedroom with the other.

Hanson bolted up into sitting position, the duvet and sheets sticking to his damp skin, his hair plastered to his head and sides of his face with sweat.

Doug managed to shove the door open as Hanson watched holding his breath in fearful anticipation.

" Hey"

Hanson continued to stare mutely.

" I thought you might be hungry so I brought you some food. It's just out of a tin. It's good though I mean it's _Heinz_. Tomato. See?" Doug babbled. He lifted the spoon allowing soup to trickle into the bowl so Hanson could see.

" Don't want any" muttered Hanson picking at a loose thread on the duvet nervously.

" Come on Tommy you gotta eat"

" Don't want any" repeated Hanson softly. He continued to unravel the thread.

" Tommy, please just eat a little bit" begged Doug. He perched himself on the edge of the bed beside his lover.

Hanson shook his head.

" Hanson" warned Doug. He wanted to help Hanson but how could he when he was being so closed off? He didn't even know what was wrong with him for crying out loud.

" I don't WANT IT!" cried Hanson

" WELL YOU'RE GONNA EAT IT! YOU CANT STARVE YOURSELF TO DEATH TOMMY!" roared Doug angrily.

Hanson shook his head again.

Agitated Doug lunged for him, grasping Hanson by the wrist, and brought the spoon to his mouth, Hanson remained tight lipped, desperately swiveling his head from left to right. Soup drenched the blankets spreading like a pool of crimson blood.

" Will you just EAT?!" snapped Doug

Hanson clawed at Doug, scratching furiously until he released him.

" What the hell is wrong with you?" gasped Doug. His arm was covered in faint white streaks where Hanson's fingernails had dug in, beads of blood congregated where the skin had been broken.

" Don't touch me"

" I wasn't gonna hurt you-"  
" Don't touch me" repeated Hanson firmly.

" I wasn't –"  
" DON'T TOUCH ME!" screamed Hanson hysterically. He scrambled backwards yanking the duvet with him. He landed with a thud on the floor, a mess of limbs, blankets strewn across his body which was now partly caked in tomato soup.

"Tell me"

Hanson stared.

"Tell me Hanson for God sakes!" cried Doug his voice edgy with uneasiness, "Tell me whatever it was that was bothering you in the parking lot. Please Tommy I want to help you."

Hanson's eyes flickered upwards, hollow tunnels of anguish and despair.

Doug crouched down beside him, raising his head with his hand gently. He peered into Hanson's eyes. His fingers brushed against his lover's throat and he winced.

Doug glanced downwards; the mauve bruises were prominent against Hanson's pale skin. He ran his fingers down his windpipe gently.

" what happened?" he whispered.

" Nothing" gasped Hanson pulling away.

" Tommy you've got bruises all the way down your neck-"  
" Nothing happened" repeated Hanson scrambling to his feet. The duvet slipped to the floor as he rose exposing his naked torso. Doug honed in on red welts across his shoulder.

" Tom-"  
" I gotta go shower."

" You just-"

" I gotta shower Doug I'm covered in soup, I'm a mess. I need to get cleaned up" said Hanson softly.

He padded out of the room allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Doug ran his fingers through his hair nervously. What the hell was going on?


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, I realised I hadn't done a flash back for a few chapters now and because I was feeling particularly awake and sadistic at 1am last night I decided to write this little gem. Can you sense the sarcasm/humour? I'm like that. A very sarcastic individual. Been told I use it as a mask to hide behind by certain amateur psychologists at my university ( wry grin. )You know I bet people read these and thing Okaaaaay she's a tad weird, lets bypass her rambling opening notes and skip right ahead onto the sadistic angst. I don't know where this idea came from, or why I even thought of it but I am aware I may be traveling down a well trodden path so I will start thinking of fresh ideas as soon as God blesses me with them. As for On My Own, well I'm working on it kiddies, I'm working on it. (Man I gotta stop writing like I'm Johnny Depp crossed with Shawn Michaels -American WWE wrestler for those who don't know -LOL). Sorry for this. I forgive anyone who just glanced through and went straight onto the chap but I'm tired/slightly hyper due to lack of sleep and rambling is in my nature. So thanks to the people who review I appreciate it. You're free to read the chap now LOL :-D**

_"What's his problem?" _

_The man with the beer gut sent a look of pure disdain in Tom's direction. The teenager shuffled along the couch nervously. He didn't want to be here; had begged Dennis to leave him at home but to no avail. . _

"_Little whore's sulking" snapped Dennis his eyes glinting with annoyance._

"_Don't call me that" mouthed Tom breathlessly. Dennis looked at him over the top of his beer, eyebrows raised._

"_You gonna let him get away with that?" demanded the man with the gut._

_Dennis smirked sending chills down Tom's spine._

"_Come here" _

_Tom lowered his gaze, focusing his attention on the carpet. Various stains spotted the rug, cigarette burns intermingled with week old pasta. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. _

"_GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS OVER HERE!" bellowed Dennis._

"_But I didn't do anything" whispered Tom his head bowed. _

"_Paulie make him move" snapped Dennis _

_The man with the gut inched closer to Tom a twisted leer on his fat, greasy face. The boy leapt from his spot on the filthy sofa preferring to deal with the devil he knew rather than the devil he didn't. _

"_You think you're tough just cause we not at home?" snapped Dennis_

_Tom shook his head. He recoiled in pain as Dennis' palm crashed into the side of his face sending him stumbling backwards. He stood clutching his cheek, knees knocking and lip quivering._

"_Didn't tell you to move Tommy" laughed Dennis, "When are you gonna learn? Jesus Christ a five year old could've picked up these rules faster than you. Are you stupid? Is that the problem here Tommy boy? Are you just a stupid little shit? Come on Tommy, is that what you are?"_

_Tom blinked furiously, his heart hammering as the world swam into focus. _

"_Tommy I'm talking to you" sang Dennis, his lips curled upwards into a gleeful smirk. _

"_No" whispered Tom softly. He flinched as Dennis lunged for him, digging his fingers into the teenager's bony shoulders. _

"_Then what are you?!" _

"_Let go" pleaded Tom, his chocolate brown eyes wide with fear._

"_TELL EVERYONE WHAT YOU ARE TOMMY!" barked Dennis spraying him with spit. _

"_st-s-stupid" stammered Tom defeated._

"_And?!" prompted Dennis sharply_

_Tom returned his gaze to the soiled floor, his body trembling in Dennis' vice like grip. _

"_AND?!" repeated Dennis admonishing a sharp slap to the face. Tom's ears rang from the blow, his head whipped back from the impact, he could feel the warm, wet trickle of blood spill down his cheek. _

"_A whore" whimpered Tom, his voice cracking. _

"_That's right. Nothing more than a dirty, two dollar, 'all you have is a quarter but you can fuck me anyway' WHORE" spat Dennis _

_Paulie chuckled beneath his breath. _

"_Isn't that right Tommy?" questioned Dennis softly. _

_Tom swallowed deeply, his throat tightening with unshed tears._

"_ISN'T THAT RIGHT TOMMY?!" snarled Dennis savagely shaking the teenager_

"_Y-yes. Yes!" cried Tom his voice breaking_

"_Don't even fucking start with your god damn sniveling. DON'T FUCKING DARE!" commanded Dennis harshly. _

_Tom exhaled shakily, blinking feverishly in an effort to quell the tears. He sniffed deeply, his chin trembling. _

"_You make me sick" spat Dennis his voice low_

" _I wanna go home" whimpered Tom_

" _You wanna go home?" whispered Dennis_

" _Yes" _

" _You wanna go home?" repeated Dennis _

_Tom nodded slowly. _

" _You hear that Paulie, boy wants to go home" snapped Dennis, " He obviously doesn't like it here. Doesn't like you. How come you don't like my friend Tommy?" _

" _I-I n-never s-said-"_

"_Don't try taking it back now Tommy. You said you wanted to go home. Now we're gonna stay here until you tell my friend Paulie why you're so fucking ignorant to a man who's offered you nothing but hospitality you little shit!" barked Dennis cutting in. _

"_I never said I didn't like you" whispered Tom. Paulie glanced down his nose at the boy. _

"_Then why do you want to go home?" _

_Tom raised a shoulder in a non-committing gesture. _

"_Why don't you go over there and apologise to Paulie?" snapped Dennis_

_Tom tentatively crossed the room until he was standing before Paulie, like a child in front of an angry headmaster. He dropped his gaze to his feet, studying his trainers intently. _

"_I'm Sorry" he murmured his lips barely moving. _

"_What was that?" _

"_I said I'm sorry" whispered Tom raising his eyes to meet Paulie's piggish features. _

"_Prove it" _

_Tom glanced back fearfully at his boyfriend, his face pale. _

"_You heard the man Tommy, prove that you're sorry!" snapped Dennis, "Jesus are you deaf as well as fucking dumb?!" _

" _I-I d-don't know h-ho-how" stammered Tom his heart beating wildly with fear. _

_He felt his lover snake an arm around his slender shoulders, felt his breath warm against the back of his neck._

"_Use your imagination Tommy. What do you think a little whore like you would do to prove he's sorry?" questioned Dennis a smirk playing on his lips. _

" _I'm not doing that" croaked Tom, his face grey with fear. _

" _But see Tommy that's were you're wrong" whispered Booker his voice loaded with malice, " I make all the rules here Tommy, you just follow them. And if you don't, well sleeping with my friends is gonna be the least of your worries" _

_He felt Tom sag, felt him go limp with fear, sick with defeat. He shoved him roughly to his knees._

"_Play nice boys" chuckled Dennis. He left the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving the predators to their young prey. _

"Tom! Wake up. Wake up_!" _

_Bruised, Battered, Overpowered. _

"Tom!"

_Stripped, naked, violated. _

"Wake up!"

_Alone, torn, humiliated. _

"_For_ God sakes Tom!"

_Raped._

"TOM!"

_Again. _

The frantic shaking roused Hanson from his slideshow of horrors. He blinked, felt as if he was being blinded by a thousand points of light.

Doug's concerned face swam into view.

"Who the hell is Paulie?"

Hanson froze.


	12. Chapter 12

**Ok now I know I said I was gonna be more frequent with updates for my fics and well I know I haven't exactly kept my end of the bargain LOL but it's hard. I want to write good stuff and then when people leave these really nice reviews I feel this kind of personal pressure to make the next bit even better and then I write something and I feel like it's stuck under some big black shadow that the previous chap managed to cast. Damn. LOL people are so sick of my A/N by now right? Hey it wouldn't be complete without a ramble. I think I mixed my tenses up near the end with the flash back but a) it was something like midnight when I wrote it and b) I had managed to identify with Hanson's plight so much that I was very depressed and also extremely, extremely confused and panicked. I felt this urgency to write that flashback and well that's why it's so muddled. Also I don't really write graphically so you know…I had to kind of write weird to try convey what was happening ( I hope people can figure it out from what I've typed LOL) Not to say that you're all not intelligent enough to work it out, just that my writing might not be very clear ( I'll stop digging my own grave now shall I?? LOL) Ok so thanks to everyone who reviews especially Goodnightmysweetprince and a sparrow's soul. Love you guys:-D On with the angst!!**

"Tom?"

Hanson rubbed his eyes with his fists, dislodging the remains of sleep.

"What?"

"Who's Paulie?" repeated Doug urgently. He shifted his body so that he was sat upright, Hanson imitated his actions.

"Nobody"

"You always scream at nobody in your sleep?" demanded Doug waspishly

Hanson slumped against the pillows staring intently at the ceiling, focusing his attention on the white swirls of plaster.

" He was just this guy I knew" he said softly his eyes dim with sorrow, his face slack with fear.

Doug peered over the edge of the duvet at his boyfriend's pale features; he slipped his hand beneath the blankets desperately seeking out Hanson's. He grasped it, clutched it tightly, Hanson entwined his fingers with his own.

"What did he do to you?" whispered Doug breathlessly.

Hanson scrunched his face up tightly; purple splodges appeared against the lids, shimmering there like some drug induced high. He pulled his hand free from Doug, rolled on his side shifting his attention from the ceiling to the wall.

"Nothing I didn't ask him to" he whispered his voice hoarse.

Doug's face crumpled with confusion, he placed a hand tentatively on his boyfriend's slender shoulder.

"Turn off the light" said Hanson his voice muffled by the corner of his pillow.

"But-"  
" Please?" begged Hanson. His voice sounded so small and childlike. Doug didn't have the heart to refuse him; he leaned over and clicked off the bedside light plunging the room into darkness. He lay on his side of the bed listening to Hanson breathe.

Time ticked by in the silence, an endless eternity of quiet, Doug closed his eyes and sighed. Sleep continued to evade him.

"I was eighteen"

Hanson's voice startled him, he was sure he'd been asleep. Doug lay still, not wanting to move, not wanting to break the moment; he needed Hanson to share whatever this was with him.

"I was going out with this older guy. Thought it was cool" murmured Hanson. He chuckled weakly, "Yeah, real cool. I, I really liked him. He didn't like me so much"

He sniffed in the darkness, wrapping himself in the protective barrier of the blackness. If Doug couldn't see him, he wouldn't see the shame, wouldn't see the bruises or the scars, the hollowness of his eyes, the dirtiness which coated his entire body.

"I used to make him mad a lot, I never did anything right. I mean it wasn't his fault I couldn't do what I was told. He was trying to he-help me"

"Help you how?" snapped Doug, his voice laced with frustration.

"He j-just wanted to help. Help me be better, not so weak and selfish. He just wanted me to behave"

Doug felt a wave of anger surge through him. Someone had fucked Hanson up. Someone had parroted this bullshit to him, made him believe he was inadequate when nothing could be further from the truth.

"What did Paulie do to you Hanson?" demanded Doug his voice harsh

"I went over his house a-and I, I wouldn't do what I was told. I wouldn't, c-couldn't say Wh-what he wanted me to say. I wasn't, I _wasn't." _

He faltered, his words trailing; disappearing into the darkness.

"Not then anyway" he concluded his voice barely audible.

"Whatweren't you?"

Silence stretched between them.

"Tommy, please talk to me"

Hanson teetered on the edge of the mattress, his body resting as far away from Doug's as humanly possible. He clutched at the duvet, shoving the corner in his mouth trying to stifle the sobs so Doug wouldn't hear.

"Tommy?" questioned Doug gently. He reached across the vast space, desperately trying to breach the gulf, to weather the storm of sorrow and break through to the heart of Hanson's pain and suffering. He wanted nothing more than to pluck Hanson from the depths of despair, to pull him into his arms and comfort the poor creature that resided there.

Hanson spluttered into the blankets, his face wet with tears, the corners of his eyes aching from the salt which gathered there.

Doug rolled the smaller man over so that he faced him. He stared into Hanson's mournful eyes, never ending circles of grief and pain, clouded by tears of anguish.

"Talk to me please."

"He said I, He said I, He said, H-h-he-"Hanson's sobs intensified.

"Oh come here" whispered Doug, "Come here"

He pulled Hanson close to him, wrapped his arms around him, felt his boyfriend's fingers dig into his back as he clutched to him as if his life depended on it. The broken sobs split the night air as Doug desperately tried to soothe his heartbroken partner.

"Ssssh, it's ok sweetheart, everything's gonna be ok I promise. You hear me? You hear me Tommy?" He whispered softly, "When you feel like talking I'm gonna be hear listening ok babe? I'm gonna be right here. I swear. Do you hear me Tommy? _Right here" _

Hanson buried his face against his shoulder, inching his body closer to his lover's, drowning in the warmth and wanting nothing more than to be able to bottle this feeling of security, of love and protection so that he could take it with him everywhere and use it to ward off his demons.

_You're a whore Tommy. _

_Nothing but a two dollar 'all you have is fifty cents but you can fuck me anyway' WHORE._

_Stay on your knees, that's where you belong. _

_The rip of a zip, somewhere above his head, his tousled hair doused with sweat, _

_I want to go home. _

_Yanked by the hair, guided, coarse fingers ruffling through the limp, lank strands. _

_I want to go home. _

_Sweat pouring from every pore, dripping down his baby face, shirt stuck to his back._

_Fear? Heat? He doesn't know anymore. _

_Shallow breathing, grunts, groans. Pants of pleasure. _

_Shattered hearts. Shredded dignity. Stolen soul. _

_How long?_

_Far too long. _

_Burned at the mouth, lips parched and dry. _

_Gagging. _

_Spit, don't swallow_

_He is a whore after all. _

The images flashed before him; a never ending slideshow of his own personal hell.

He buried his face deeper into Doug's shoulder, urgently trying to block them out.

No matter how hard he shut his eyes, they continued to dance before him, breaking through the chinks in his armor, twisting and taunting him, hammering away at whatever sense of dignity he had left.


	13. Chapter 13

**Don't know what I'm doing so don't ask LOL. I'm just writing whatever crap comes into my head. I like doing flashbacks but I'm even struggling with them. Gah, well hope you like this tiny chapter anyway. sorry its so short and sucky LOL. Hopefully the next offering will be better. Thanks to everyone who reviews I appreciate it. **

Doug blearily opened one eye, the first shred of dawn glared directly in his face courtesy of the chink in the curtains. He groaned softly, stretched himself before rolling onto his back, to be greeted by a vast, cold space. He sat up; his hair knotted at the back and glanced around the room seeking out Hanson.

He wasn't there.

He padded from the room, blanket shrouding his shoulders, into the kitchen.

Hanson cast his eyes upwards from the book he was reading, one hand poised at chin level, spoon in hand overflowing with coco pops.

"What are you doing?"

"Eating, reading" muttered Hanson shoveling the spoonful into his mouth.

"Come on Tommy you were up half the night, don't you think you should go back to bed for a few hours? I'll phone Fuller-"  
" Got school" interrupted Hanson through a mouthful of cereal

Doug blinked. He peered at Hanson more closely and noticed the familiar denim jacket and plaid shirt.

"You're going undercover as Tommy McQuaid?" he questioned.

Hanson swallowed.

"Yes"

"With Booker?"

"No Booker's being some sort of drug pusher. I'm the bad boy with a heart of gold. I get to entice little Tiffany away from her boyfriend" muttered Hanson

"Are you ok?" asked Doug

Hanson's façade slipped slightly as Doug peered at him with worried eyes. He bit his lip.

"I'm gonna be" he said softly, he peered down at his cereal watching the milk swirl into chocolate, wanting to cast his gaze anywhere except for Doug's concerned face.

"Are you gonna eat that or play with it?" asked Doug

Hanson cracked a weak smile but kept his eyes firmly fixated on the bottom of the bowl, lost in the memory, lost in hell.

_He didn't give a damn after the deed had been done. Didn't claim one single scrap of blame, feel one iota of pity. _

_He just stared at the disheveled teenager, watched him slowly limp his way over to the car._

"_What you doing Tommy?" he asked softly_

"_Going home" he mumbled _

"_Did Paulie give you permission to leave Tommy? Did you prove how sorry you were?" Dennis sneered. _

_Silence greeted his taunting. _

_Dennis peered at the bruised and battered face of the teenager before him. His eyes were soulless, all life erased from them. He scrutinized the face, expecting to see tears, hear whimpers. There was nothing. Just a deadly silence as if the last part of his soul had been chipped away, cruelly robbed from his fingertips. _

"_Answer me Tommy!" snapped Dennis furiously_

"_Why? You're just going to hit me anyway" _

_A tremor of defiance coursed through his fragile body. His heart beat wildly in his chest. What was the point of this? Why was he even here? Maybe if he got him so mad, so very mad he could put him out of his misery because Please God if this was living he didn't want it. _

_Booker's eyes glinted in the dusk but for once Tom didn't care, he wanted him to hit him. Hit him so hard that the pain from everything else disappeared. _

" _What did you say?" snapped Dennis furiously. He wasn't used to this resistance. _

" _Why should I? Why should I answer you when all you're gonna do is hit me? So go on, just do it! I'm not gonna answer your questions so just hit me!" _

" _Don't you dare-"_

" _Hit me!" _

" _Tommy" his voice was laced with danger_

" _Do it, HIT ME!" screamed Tom his voice harsh like broken glass, " HIT ME. You've done it a million times before just HIT ME!" _

_A smirk passed Dennis' lips as he finally clicked. The sight of it tortured Tom, sent surges of burning anger shooting through his veins. He lunged for his lover, feebly pummeling his chest._

"_Hit me you son of a bitch, HIT ME!" he roared, each word punctuated by a fist._

_Dennis laughed, his eyes shining with amusement, his body shaking with perverse pleasure. _

_He shoved Tom roughly to the ground, the teenager scrambled to his feet, wiped his nose on his sleeve roughly. He shot Dennis a look of disdain. _

" _I'm not gonna hit you" snapped Dennis, " But if you don't get that glare outta your stare boy, you'll find out exactly how far I'll go to keep your scrawny little ass in line!" _

_A flicker of uncertainty passed over Tom's face and he felt some of his resolve crumble._

"_Get in the fucking car" commanded Dennis his face taut with annoyance. _

"_You-"  
"GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" _

_Tom cast his eyes downwards to the roadside, what if he didn't get in the car? What was he gonna do? Leave him here? Maybe he would. Leave him here, out on the roadside like last week's garbage. He bit his lip, if he got left here then he'd be stuck with Paulie and Paulie didn't give a damn how much he pleaded. In fact it seemed to encourage him. _

_With a heavy heart he climbed into the car and shut the door. _


	14. Chapter 14

**I don't know what I'm doing. There I said it. I don't know where the angst has gone either. Maybe I was feeling particularly kind and decided to give Hanson a break for a chap. Maybe I just lost it. LOL. Yeah the teenage girls are stereotypical, and Hanson's acting wierd but I honestly don't know what I'm doing anymore so... LOL. Thanks to everyone who reviews as usual. I hope you still like what I've wrote even though the angst level has dipped a bit. **

Hanson knotted the bandana tighter, stared up at the defaced High school before him.

_Get with the game Tommy you're a McQuaid not a mouse. _

He rived the gum from his pocket, crumpled the foil and flicked it to the ground. He chomped at it, allowing the mint taste to roll over his tongue, thankful for the distraction. He didn't like to admit it but first days undercover were a hell of a lot like revisiting seventh grade and it still sucked.

It was so much easier being a McQuaid with Doug. Damn Fuller and his stupid teamwork.

"So where to first _cuz?"_

Hanson spun round at the sound of his voice. Booker smirked back at him, his eyes shimmering with amusement.

" Lost the ability to speak?" he taunted.

Hanson parted his lips slowly before bringing them to a close. He gulped deeply.

" What was that Tommy?" asked Booker cocking a hand to his ear.

" Shove off " snapped Hanson furiously.

Booker glared at him, the coal coloured slits swirling with danger.

" Tommy-"

" Look you just stick with Reggie, I'll try find Tiffany. I don't need your help here ok? I don't need you here period. Just _leave me alone_!" hissed Hanson furiously.

Dennis shot him a twisted grin.

"You don't need me?"

"No" muttered Hanson lowering his gaze to the ground.

Booker snorted in amusement, or contempt Hanson wasn't sure. He raised his eyes, staring into the burning coals.

"I'm gonna go find Tiffany, you go try get a buy" said Hanson his voice low

" I'm sure you'll have a lot in common when you find her"

Hanson turned and stared. Booker snapped on his wad of gum lazily, a grin pasted on his face.

" Leave me alone Dennis, _I don't need you" _

Hanson started pushing his way through the throng of students entering the building. He allowed his eyes to roam backwards, allowing his gaze to rest on Dennis momentarily.

Booker pointed a finger threateningly in his direction.

"We'll see" he mouthed.

Hanson walked up the stone steps, trying to quash the feeling of nausea he could feel bubbling up within him.

He turned the corner, scraping his fingers nonchalantly against the row of lockers until he saw her. She was with what he could only assume as her "clique". Preppy, cheerleader, Barbie dolls. And _loud._

He winced as the brunette nearest to him squealed with sheer delight.

" Oh my _god!" _

Hanson slammed the locker with his fist earning himself a few stares. "Oh my god girl" shot him a look of disdain.

" Oh I'm _sorry. _ Did I ruin the first meeting of the airhead express?"

" What's your problem?" snapped Tiffany. Hanson glanced at her, scrutinising her face, committing every mauve mark buried beneath foundation to memory. Every scar, every tainted piece of skin. Tiffany felt her face flush under his intimate stare. _What was he looking at?_

" Do you really have to ask Tiff I mean _god, _He's got criminal written all over him!"

Hanson's eyes flickered over the group, once again coming to rest on the brunette. He shot her a lazy grin, almost flirtatious.

"Name? Occupation? Reason for the stick up your ass?" he questioned with a smirk.

Tiffany stifled a giggle, her lips turning upwards at the corners. So the guy was a jerk, _a cute jerk, _and funny. But still a jerk nonetheless she reminded herself sternly.

Hanson turned to her, shooting her a grin, his eyes twinkling.

"You're such an asshole"

"Huh? What was that? Oh my _Gawd! _ Another insult spills forth from her pretty little lips. Come on sweet cheeks what's up your ass?" snapped Hanson.

" Her name's Melanie" interrupted Tiffany swiftly.

Hanson trilled his fingers in her face, catching her by surprise.

" Hi Mel!" he crowed

" Get lost you freak" she snapped brushing his hand away.

Hanson clutched at his chest, his fingers tugging on bunches and folds of denim. He closed his eyes and leant against the lockers dramatically.

" Oh _man_! You think I'm a freak? _Really?_ Oh my God, and here I was all set to ask you to Homecoming and everything. _my life is over!_ " he wailed.

Tiffany spluttered, her giggles ringing out. Hanson opened his eyes slightly, peeked at her through his eyelashes.

" He's not even funny" scoffed Mel

Hanson pointed a solitary finger in Tiffany's direction, a grin on his face.

Melanie snorted in contempt before turning on her heels, storming down the corridor. The crowd glanced at each other before hastily following her.

Tiffany stayed.

"What's your name?" she questioned.

"Tommy" he replied, turning his attention to the lockers. He fumbled with the lock, turning the combination. It wouldn't budge.

She manoeuvred herself behind him, linking her fingers around his hands, turned the lock sharply. The door swung open.

"Voila!"

"Thanks" muttered Hanson

" HEY!"

Hanson glanced up sharply, Tiffany's eyes widened, flooded with guilt and flecked with fear.

" What are you doing? Get off my girl!"

" Reggie we-"

" _Shut the hell up!" _he snarled

Hanson watched her wilt, her mouth clamped shut, her eyes orbs of fright and dismay.

" Don't talk to her like that"

" Who the _hell_ are you?" spat Reggie turning his attention to Hanson.

" Tommy McQuaid"

" Well McQuaid why don't you just scurry away to class before you get yourself into some serious trouble"

Hanson raised an eyebrow questioningly at Tiffany

" You should go" she muttered

Hanson glanced at her, his soft brown eyes pleading her to reconsider.

" You heard her! She wants you to go now get lost!" roared Reggie, grabbing Tiffany , digging his finger nails into her arm. She winced with pain, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.

Hanson shrugged before turning as if to leave.

" What did I tell you?!" snarled Reggie shaking her savagely

" I-I'm s-sorry"

" You do what _I _tell you! You don't talk to other guys, you don't so much as look at them do you hear me you little who-"

The offending word wasn't even uttered before Hanson stepped in landing a perfectly aimed sucker punch to the jaw. With a thud Reggie fell to the floor, a hand pressed to his bleeding lip. Tiffany flattened herself against the lockers, shock splayed across her pale face. Hanson towered above her boyfriend, rage written all over his features.

"And _I _told _you_ not to talk to her like that" spat Hanson his chest rising a falling with fury.

Reggie scrambled to his feet, sleeve staunching the blood flow.

" I'm gonna get you for that _boy_" he spat furiously

" Big words little man" retorted Hanson coolly, his eyes blazing with anger, " You so much as look at her in the wrong way again and I swear to God I'll kill you"

Tiffany shot him a curious look, she barely knew this boy yet here he was sticking up for her. She frowned in confusion.

"We'll see" spat Reggie

Hanson's lip curled with disdain. His eyes blemished with disgust, he looked at this young punk, seeing through him, seeing the core of Booker. Maybe if someone had slapped the taste out of Dennis' mouth he wouldn't have turned into such an evil shit.

"Better get that glare outta your stare _boy_ before I knock it out for you" threatened Reggie furiously. Hanson inhaled sharply, his heart hammering, his blood pounding through his veins with rage.

He inched closer to the teenager, not caring he was on a case, that he was twenty four, all he could see was the look of fear in Tiffany's eyes every time this control freak opened his mouth, could see the smokey wisps of his eighteen year old self cowering beneath the blows raining down on his fragile body, feel his soul and confidence being chipped away. He knew that look of fear, hell he'd mastered it for two whole years. Now this kid thought he could intimidate him? Could parrot this bullshit to him?

"You gonna hit me?" question Hanson his face inches away from Reggie's own, his eyes burning bright with hatred. His breath warm against the smug features of the teen.

"I'm warning you boy back off" snapped Reggie, his eyes flickered from left to right, barely concealing his concern. Still he attempted to partake in the façade that Hanson could see through so clearly.

He snickered, a twisted grin on his face. Ironic; he scared the living hell out of someone.

"Warning me? Oh, oh _warning _me!" cried Hanson his voice dripping with sarcasm, "well let me tell you something _Reggie_, I'm scared. Real scared"

He placed his hands in front of the teenager's face, palms down and waved his fingers rapidly.

"See Reg? Quivering in my boots" he mocked.

" You should be" snapped Reggie bitterly.

Hanson pushed him against the lockers relishing the dull thud his body made against the cold hard steel. He pinned the teenager there by his shoulders.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against the boy's cool earlobe.

"But I'm not" he whispered his hot breath crackling against his ear.


	15. Chapter 15

"Let go of me" hissed Reggie furiously.

" Hey!"  
Hanson felt his blood run cold; startled by the sound of Booker's clipped tone.

The officer snatched at folds of denim, riving Hanson backwards away from the teenager, he shoved him roughly his boots scuffing against the tiled floor of the corridor.

Hanson glared at him through fiery slits, his brow furrowed with frustration.

" Get the hell off him" snapped Booker his eyes blazing. What the hell was Hanson playing at, manhandling a 16-year-old kid undercover? IAD would scream entrapment in a heartbeat.

" You gonna make me?" challenged Hanson inching closer.

Booker grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and rammed him forcefully up against the lockers.

"Listen to me and listen good, you're gonna get your shit together and then you're going to get the hell out of here. Do I make myself clear?!" snarled Booker his face inches away from Hanson's own.

The younger man twisted violently in Booker's vice like grip.

The elder officer slammed him against the lockers a second time, punctuated with a sickening crack as Hanson' s head snapped backwards bouncing off the cold steel.

"Do I make myself clear?" snapped Booker enunciating each word slowly.

Hanson glared at him; his jaw set firmly, his teeth clenched with fury; his face a mask of defiance.

Hanson tore himself from Booker's hold and dusted himself down.

" You leave her alone" he muttered softly, aiming a finger threateningly in Reggie's face, " You touch her again and you're dead"

Reggie snorted with contempt, staring at Hanson's retreating back.

" Thanks"

Booker glanced at the teenager, his eyes dampened by the rage and derision he felt for Hanson.

" No worries, you can owe me one" he said with a smirk

" You know that guy who just took off?" asked Reggie suspiciously.

" Never seen him before in my life" lied Booker, " Just thought you looked like you needed a hand is all"

" HANSON!"

Hanson swung round in surprise, school had just ended and he'd just stepped foot in the chapel. Surely Fuller had no reason to be out for his blood so swiftly.

Doug glanced up from his own desk sending a questioning glance in his partner's direction.

" You wanna tell me what the hell you were playing at this morning?"

Hanson bit his lip, pondering the question.

" Not particularly"

" DAMN IT HANSON THIS ISN'T FUNNY! YOU ASSAULTED A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD KID!" roared Fuller furiously.

" I didn't _assault_ anyone!" snapped Hanson indignantly, " He, HE was the one assaulting people-"

" Booker put everything in his report" Fuller's condemning tone split the room.

" What does Booker know about it?" snapped Doug

" A lot more than you do Dougie" Booker's mocking voice travelled across the hallway as he entered the main office.

" You-"  
" Aw save it Hanson you had the kid up against a locker, you blatantly threatened him AND you've wrecked our covers! That kid is never gonna trust you now, ever" barked Booker furiously.

"Oh so what did you expect me to do? Let him carry on pushing his girlfriend around?!" cried Hanson heatedly.

"You saw him physically attack Tiffany Carter?" questioned Fuller his tone softening.

"He grabbed her, he, he was shaking her"

"So that doesn't mean anything" snapped Booker

"It wouldn't to_ you_ would it?!" retorted Hanson

"Could you have been mistaken?"

" Captain I was right there, I SAW HIM. He was shaking her, that's what the domestics are!"

" Him shaking her?"

" SHUT UP BOOKER!" roared Hanson furiously.

Booker smirked in his direction, his eyes glinting dangerously.

" Maybe he loves her and you misinterpreted his actions" he suggested

" What's love got to do with it?!" snapped Hanson

" Simmer down Tina Turner, I was only saying" mocked Booker

" THIS ISN'T A JOKE!"

" Hanson calm down" said Fuller softly. He scrutinised the young officer before him, his fists were clenched, his face taut with anger, chest rising and falling with fury.

" No because none of you are taking this seriously and you wont until that, that _bastard_ really hurts her. She's just a kid!" snapped Hanson

" A kid with a big mouth"

Hanson recoiled as if slapped, Booker's connotation hitting hard.

" Yeah well he doesn't love her"

" How in the hell do you know?!" spat Booker his eyes blazing with fury, " You think that just cause he shoved her one time he doesn't care? What the fuck do you know about any of it Hanson huh? You read your little book, see the '_Victim's_' point of view-"

He faltered.

" She is the victim" said Hanson softly, " And he doesn't love her, he loves the power he has. You think he'd stay with her if she started fighting back huh? HUH?"

Booker's lip curled with disdain as he glared down at the younger man.

" She wont fight back though will she? She doesn't need to what with_ you_ assaulting students for her"

" I can't believe you're defending someone who bullies women" said Doug his tone laced with disgust.

" He would" snapped Hanson his face twisted with repulsion.

" SHUT UP HANSON!" spat Booker furiously his eyes ablaze with hatred. The gurgle of chatter came to an abrupt halt as the officers turned to stare. Hanson took a cautious step backwards inadvertently knocking into Fuller in his haste to remove himself from the situation.

Fuller placed a steadying hand on the young officer's shoulder feeling him flinch beneath his touch.

Hanson rived himself from the superior officer's hold

" Don't" he commanded his eyes burning bright with annoyance , " I don't need you touching me."

" Tom, you were gonna trip man-"

" Doug I don't need people touching me! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" cried Hanson

"Tsk tsk Tommy, look at you being so rude to everyone. You're so independent aren't you? You don't need Dougie, You don't need Captain Fuller, You don't even need help on our case" sneered Booker his eyes shimmering with malice.

"Stow it Booker" snapped Fuller, he cast a concerned glance in Hanson's direction.  
" can I go now?" enquired Hanson his eyes downcast

Fuller gave an exasperated sigh before waving him away with an admonishing gesture.

Doug rose from his desk swiftly; his shoes echoing off the panelled floor as he hastily followed his boyfriend from the building.

"Tom!"  
Hanson carried on walking, his hands buried deep in his denim jeans, the warmth creeping through his fingers via electric shoots of pain. He kept his gaze fixated on the ground closing his ears to the anxious call of his lover.

"Hanson!" snapped Doug allowing the irritation to seep from his tone.

"Leave me alone _Penhall"_ retorted Hanson pointedly. Penhall made a mad dash for his lover, yanking him backwards by the collar of his jacket.

"GET OFF!" Yelled Hanson furiously, he struggled ferociously in Doug's grip.

"Just _talk to me!" _

He wrapped his arms around Hanson tightly, encasing the smaller man in his strong grasp.

"Please talk to me" he whispered, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.

" Let go"

" Tom _please" _begged Doug

Hanson's body went limp, the passion of the fight deserting his limbs at the sound of Doug's sorrowful pleading.

" Stop pushing me out Tom"

"I'm not" replied Hanson softly.

" Ok so running away, refusing to open your mouth and tell me what the _hell_ is going on, crying in the middle of the night…that's you letting me in right?" snapped Doug his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I…no…Doug" pleaded Hanson, his head spinning from the endless string of questions.

"You know you are and that's why you can't give me a decent answer"

" I'm not doing it on purpose!" blurted Hanson furiously, " I just, I just can't talk about it. I'm not _shutting you out_ or, or _pushing you away_. I just, Doug I can't!"

"You can tell me anything you know that!"

"Not this" said Hanson his voice weighted with sadness.

He felt the cold gush of air velvet his shoulders as Doug removed the warmth of his protection.

"Maybe you can tell Booker then"

"What in the hell's that supposed to mean?!" called Hanson, his words echoing off Doug's retreating back.

"DOUG!" His angered cry split the air, bridging the distance of the parking lot.

Doug halted, turned his gaze back to his lover, his brown eyes piercing Hanson to the core.

"What does it mean?" he repeated, "What does it _mean_?! What do you think it means?!"

Hanson blinked in surprise, his lips parted, throat parched with nerves. He gulped deeply trying to dislodge the lump he felt building.

"I don't know" he managed.

"Well I'm sure if you think on it a little it'll come to you" sneered Doug his eyes blazing

"What've I done Doug?" questioned Hanson desperately.

" What _haven't _you done?" asked Doug softly as he turned his back, Hanson stared up at his partner's back, his face clouded by the cold shadow of rejection.

He raised numb fingers to trembling lips, pressed the shaking digits against his quivering lips in an effort to stall their vulnerable movement.

Doug allowed the main door to swing shut behind him with a slam. He leaned his burning forehead against the wall, his cheeks aflame, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He'd seen the way Hanson had looked at Booker, the glances of conspiracy which continued to flicker between the two men. The power Booker seemed to wield, the way Hanson responded to his beck and call. Why would they act in such a way unless there was something more to their relationship?

Hanson was being so secretive and distant, giving no reason for his sudden development of trauma.

Images flickered before his mind's eye, snapshots of the parking lot emboldened in the mist of Doug's memory. The way Booker leant close to Hanson, his thin lips brushing close against Hanson's ear, a perfectly executed stroke of the arm, and whispered conversations in the corner. They were always together as of late.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry it's taking me so long to update fics. Not much seems to happen in this chap, I'm not really sure where I'm going with it at the moment. I hope you like it anyway. Thanks to everyone who reviews, I appreciate it as always.**

Doug felt the tear slip down his face, ice cold against his burning cheek.

" Doug?"

He startled, hastily brushing his sleeve against his face, wiping the tear away. He glanced around, his gaze settling on Judy.

" You ok?" she questioned her face etched with concern.

" Oh yeah, I'm just dandy" replied Doug his voice strained with sarcasm. Judy shot him a disbelieving look.

" You wanna talk about it?"

" No" he muttered. He pushed past Judy and resumed his place at his desk. He stared down at the wood, tracing the pattern lightly with his finger tips.

He didn't glance up as Hanson re-entered the chapel choosing instead to focus his attention on the graining of the desk before him.

Hanson came over to him.

He stood waiting for some acknowledgement, a look, a word of explanation…anything.

" Doug?"

The shuffle of papers sliced through the silence, cutting into Hanson's heart.

" Doug?" he whispered, his eyes clouded with pain.

" Oh now you wanna talk?"

Hanson recoiled as Doug's scathing tone pierced him to the core. He wasn't even sure what he'd done.

" Doug I'm sorry, really I am but, b-but some stuff I just have to work out an-and then-" he babbled breathlessly, leaning in close to his partner.

" Why don't you just go sit at your desk and leave me alone before I say something I _really_ regret?" growled Doug furiously cutting him off

Hanson visibly flinched from the snarl, hastily retreated backwards from the cold harsh words spilling from his lover's lips.

He stumbled, desperately regained his footing before fleeing from the building the world fuzzy at the seams, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He fumbled with the handle of the mustang, gave a low groan of frustration as it refused to open. He clasped his fingers around it, feeling the plastic dig into his flesh and yanked it open with an overzealous tug.

He scrambled into the mustang, brought it to life with a roar, and escaped the coldness of the chapel accompanied by the frantic screech of tyres against tarmac.

He glanced into the rear view mirror as he left, the mirror reflecting in his shimmering eyes. The shadow of Dennis Booker flickered in the glass, distorted by tears. Hanson blinked furiously, pressed his foot against the accelerator and continued fruitlessly trying to outrun the demons of the past.

Doug sat drumming his fingers against the desk, his head reeling, his stomach churning with guilt and remorse.

No matter how mad he was at Hanson he shouldn't have said that. _Why had he said that? _

He gnawed at his lower lip, his brow creased with worry.

If Hanson would just _talk _to him, this could all be avoided, all this confusion, all this speculation.

He rubbed his hand across his forehead wearily.

He wanted the old Tom Hanson back, the one who told him what he was thinking, who shared everything he possibly could. The best friend cum lover from the past. Where was_ that_ Hanson?

Hanson slammed the kitchen cupboard doors shut angrily, with a clatter smacked the glass to the counter top before pouring the whiskey into it, allowing the liquid to cloud the glass.

He stood staring at it for several seconds, the war raging within him. He'd swore never to deal with his problems this way, believed in his heart of hearts that alcohol just made the world seem darker, the troubles more crushing, the hurt more real.

He clutched at the glass desperately trying to steady his shaking hand. Maybe if he drank it, the memories would fade the words of scorn stifle to a whisper. Maybe the blow of rejection could be lessened. He raised the glass to quivering lips, allowed the bitter liquid to tinge his tongue, felt the alcohol burn the back of his throat as he swallowed it in one swift gulp.

Doug didn't want to talk to him? Fine, he didn't want to talk to him either. Hanson unscrewed the cap off the bottle and poured himself another glass of whiskey. He downed that one and without a second thought poured a third. If he couldn't forget the pain, he could at least momentarily block it.

Penhall let himself in several hours later, surprised to find the house blanketed by darkness. He was sure Hanson would have been waiting for him, probably teary eyed and full of frustration, but waiting for him nonetheless. His heart stung at the rejection.

"Tom?"

His voice seemed deafening in wake of the thunderous silence surrounding him.

He pushed open the living room door, grappled for the light switch with his hand and flooded the room with a pale yellow glow.

Hanson blinked at him, his eyes vast and sparse. A film of drink induced stupor coating the chocolate brown orbs.

"What are you doing?"

Hanson remained mute, fumbled beside his feet in a drunken attempt to pick up his glass. He raised it to his lips, miscalculated the gesture and sloshed the front of his shirt with whiskey.

Doug prised the glass from his fingers, holding it aloft as Hanson peered up at him from the couch.

"Gimmie it back" he slurred sluggishly groping for the drink he so desperately craved.

"No, you've had enough" snapped Doug annoyed

" _You _can't tell me when I've had enough and when I haven't had enough. You know who decides what I do _Doug?_ Me. _I_ decide what I do, and what I don't do. I'm sick of people telling me, making me, and then-"  
he trailed off, descended into a drunken mumble as Doug looked on his brows knitted with frustration, his face awash with confusion.

"Why are you doing this Tommy?" He murmured softly, his eyes shimmering with dismay.

"Just give me the glass back, you didn't wanna talk to me before when I try-tried to explain so _I_ don't wanna talk to you now" mumbled Hanson

"Oh and what _do_ you wanna do huh? Drink yourself to death?!" roared Doug furiously, "Damn it Hanson you _know_ that's not the answer!"

"It's your answer! It was your dad's answer, How come it can be everybody's answer but mine?!" screamed Hanson irately

"It's not _my_ answer" hissed Doug his eyes flashing with fury. Hanson ignored the warning signs, too drunk to care and continued picking at the open wound of Penhall's past.

"You go out and get hammered all the damn time, every time we have a fight you go out and get drunk. _Then_ you stay out all, all night...and don't c-c-call or anything you just drink all the time so _why. Can't. I?!"_

"Tom just stop it" seethed Doug

"Why? Why Doug? What are you gonna do if I don't? You gonna hit me? You gonna hit me Doug? Hit me! I don't care," wailed Hanson drunkenly, "Go on prove how much of a man you are and hit me! Come on Doug, Do it!"

"STOP IT!" roared Doug irefully, ramming his fist into the sofa cushion inches from Hanson's head.

Silence descended upon the room in an instant, the weight of it crushing the pair of them. Hanson felt the iron bands of panic clasp across his chest, squeezing all life from him, all sense of rationality. He felt the cold hand of fear clutch at his heart through his drunken haze, a sea of terror washed over him, freezing his limbs with trepidation.

"Just stop" panted Doug, his breath warm on Hanson's face.


	17. Chapter 17

Hanson's eyes flickered and danced with fear, his lips parted slightly. He shuffled along the couch slowly, scrabbling under Doug's hefty frame in an effort to escape.

"Where are you going now?!" barked Doug rounding on the smaller man swiftly

Hanson dismissed him with a wave of the hand, continued stumbling from the room on unsteady limbs.

"_Hanson!" _

Doug's angered cry tore through the house, his confusion splashed through the hallway as his partner refused to return to the living room.

Hanson eased himself onto the double bed, his head throbbing, the ceiling and walls swirled together in a rapid colour merging circle, the furniture dancing before his eyes in a drunken haze.

"Get up"

The smaller man startled as Doug's irritated tone clawed into his ear.

"No" he mumbled

"Hanson get up! You can't sleep on your back like that" snapped Doug, yanking at his lover's arm incessantly, "_Move!"_

Hanson sluggishly shoved Doug's hand from his arm and shut his eyes.

"MOVE!" roared Doug dragging the smaller man onto his side.

"Get off me" murmured Hanson sleepily

"You can't go to sleep on your back, you're _drunk_!" seethed Doug, "Stay on your side so you don't choke to death"

"I'm not gonna be sick" muttered Hanson, his eyes flickering shut.

Doug gave an exasperated sigh before sitting on the bed next to him. He'd make sure he didn't choke in his sleep, even if it meant keeping vigil the entire night. He'd never seen Hanson drunk before, sure he'd seen him _drink_, but never to the point where he couldn't walk in a straight line, he'd never seen Hanson pass out due to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. _His father was a different story altogether. _ Doug covered his face with his hand, feeling the tension vibrate from his taut skin. Felt the barricades shake and crumble slightly.

"Don't you _dare _make a habit outta this" he snarled, his lips inches away from Hanson's sleeping face, "You hear me Hanson? Don't you _dare_ turn into him! I won't let you, you _tell _me things, and you can tell me anything. You don't have to be like this, so, so distant and, and so unpredictable. You _talk _to me ok you don't, you don't… Don't you leave me!"

The snarl faded into a whimper, a plea frozen on quivering lips. Doug couldn't bear contemplating that Hanson wanted to break free from their relationship; that he had tired of his lover like a child tires of a worn out toy. The thought of losing Hanson was excruciating, especially if he was being thrown aside to make room for Dennis Booker. God damn it why couldn't Hanson just _speak_ to him?! What was getting drunk going to solve? Damn it did Hanson even consider his feelings when he did it? Did he realise how much it would hurt Doug? How painful ripping the Elastoplast from the shattered heart would be? Didn't he _care_?

"Don't you give a damn?" whispered Doug breathlessly, his fingers tracing Hanson's jaw line lightly, his lover stirred swatting at Doug's hand emphatically.

"Don't touch me" he slurred, the harsh words floating on a stale cloud of whiskey.

"_Don't touch you?!" repeated Dennis, his voice heavy with scorn, rising on a wave of rage, "Don't touch you?! I come home after working all day at the academy to find you pissed out of your tiny little skull and all you have to say for yourself is DON'T TOUCH ME?!"_

_Tom glanced up at his boyfriend, his eyes clouded with regret, his limbs frozen with fear. He'd opened two bottles of beer, supped half of the first one and then been violently sick. His first attempt at drinking alcohol had not been successful. He'd poured the remainder of the bottles into the sink, watched it bubble and froth as it swirled down the drain. _

"_I didn't drink all of it-"he tried to explain_

"_DID I TELL YOU TO DRINK ANY OF IT?!" _

"_N-n-"_

"_DID I?" barked Dennis brutishly cutting him off_

"_No" cried Tom his voice trembling with trepidation._

"_No, and now look what's happened! YOU can't drink! I didn't say you could did I?" screamed Dennis, his eyes contorted with anger, his face ablaze with rage. His breath was stale, soured by cigarettes and vodka._

_Tom nibbled at his lip, his palms slick with sweat as he remained mute unsure if he was meant to answer. _

_He yelped as Dennis lunged for him, wrestling the younger man to the ground, pinning him to the cold tiles of the kitchen floor._

"_Did I say you could?" he asked breathlessly. Tom shivered as the husky whisper sent fear tingling through his torso like volts of electricity. _

_He whimpered in pain as Dennis dug his knuckles into the teenager's spine; felt his body crushed beneath the weight of the elder man, as he yanked him upwards pushing his arm against the smaller man's slender throat._

"_Answer me Tommy," he crowed in a sing-songy tone, "Did I say you could drink?" _

"_No" _

"_No and you know why Tommy? YOU KNOW WHY?" seethed Dennis his teeth clenched, " Because you forget the rules when you get drunk, you forget your place, you get reckless and you think you can take care of yourself! You get all these stupid notions in that microscopic little brain of yours and you end up hurting yourself" _

"_I-I'm not drunk" stammered Tom inhaling shakily, he winced as Dennis increased the pressure on his lean frame mashing his body against the icy stone. _

"_Of course you're drunk" spat Dennis his eyes bloodshot from his own alcohol consumption, he eased himself from the ground before dragging the youngster from the floor with one hand, not caring how the pain raced through Tom's limbs._

"_You're drunk; if you weren't drunk you'd keep that big mouth of yours in check." He snapped, "Now we need to get you sobered up, then maybe we can find a better use for that mouth of yours" _

_Tom shied away from the sexual advance now knowing it was just another pawn in the power game. _

"_Did I say move?!" roared Dennis furiously slapping the boy in the mouth. He emitted a cackle of excitement as Tom stood, head bowed, not daring to raise a hand to his bloodied mouth for fear of reprimand. _

"_You stay here" he commanded, his eyes burning with exhilaration_

_Tom obeyed the demand placed upon him, stood shivering in the kitchen, his heart thumping in his mouth, his stomach churning with dread. He startled as Dennis re-entered the kitchen._

" _Come on Tommy, we'll get you sobered up" he sang, his face alight with mockery. He yanked the teenager from the room leading him upstairs._

_He dragged the smaller man into the bathroom; Tom shook his head, his eyes wide. Dennis growled in annoyance before picking the younger man up and dunking him into the bath of water._

_Tom spluttered and coughed, the freezing water knifing through his thin T-shirt, his jeans becoming denser with the water. He struggled ferociously as the daggers of cold needled his skin. He yelled in protest, the water gushing into his mouth and nose burning and stinging his split lip, He flailed his limbs around violently, and thrashed the water wildly as it thundered in his ears. His heart hammered in his chest; he struggled to breathe as he felt the water crash over his face repeatedly. He screwed his eyelids tightly, felt the sea of terror wash over his body intermingling with the bitter ice of the water. The sob bubbled beneath his lips, the tears freezing on his face. He choked and gasped as Dennis dunked him once more, grasped for air as he was brought to the surface, his face and hair dripping with moisture, his clothes sodden and stuck to his torso with the weight of the water._

_The tiles hurtled up to meet his soaking body, his limbs crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. He spat the excess liquid to the ground, coughed and spluttered into his hand, his entire body racking with sobs. He clawed his way up, through dark bangs of hair glanced up at the distorted face of Dennis, his face split wide with amusement. He leant down close to the teenager, his warm lips brushing against the freezing cold earlobe._

"_Drinking's really not worth it, is it sweetheart?" he muttered, a wide grin graced his thin slips, " Now why don't you drag your scrawny little ass up off the floor and clean this mess you've made"_

_Tom emitted a low shaking moan, shuddered violently in the cold, his body surrounded by pools of ice cold water. He placed a trembling hand at the foot of the sink, heaved his quivering and sodden body until he was resting on his knees. He pulled himself upright, rived the slick and waterlogged hair from his eyes before turning his attention to the soaked bathroom. _

Hanson thrashed wildly on the bed, the blanket crumpled and twisted beneath him as Doug looked on in concern. He placed a steadying hand on his lover's shoulder, recoiled swiftly as the hurt stung through his body as Hanson's flailing fists made contact with his limbs.

"Tom! Tom stop it! STOP!" he screamed, his voice shrill with panic and urgency.

Hanson startled into sitting position with a gasp, felt his lungs expand readily, sucking in gulps of air greedily. He panted with fear, his hair drenched with sweat, his body musky with the stench of alcohol.

Doug glanced down on him, his face white and taut with alarm, the shock etched clearly on his features.


	18. Chapter 18

**I know I haven't updated in ages and I apologise but I recently started back at university and my second year is quite demanding. I've been busy, I've also had some writer's block to contend with so sorry. I'm working on my fics when I can. I'm sorry I can't do any better than that. I thank you all for being so patient with me and I hope you like this chapter (even if it is pretty pointless LOL). **

"Tom-"  
"No" choked Hanson, he scrambled for the bathroom, the door slamming coldly in Penhall's face.

The sound of retching tore its way through the room, easily overcoming the wooden barrier. Doug cringed, not sick, he hated sick.

"You ok Tommy?" he muttered softly, a conflict of emotion battling inside him. He tried to conquer the sense of relief that he couldn't actually _see_ Hanson throw up, with the feeling of worry that something was terribly wrong with him.

"Tommy?" he asked again, rapping his knuckles lightly against the surface.

"Go _away_" commanded Hanson, he doubled over as his stomach convulsed sending another wave of nausea through his trembling frame. He squeezed his eyelids shut, felt the cold sting of tears as he retched, splattering the porcelain bowl with the contents of his stomach. He groaned; his head pounding and his throat burning.

"Go away?!" snapped Doug defensively, "You want me to go away?"

"Uh huh" groaned Hanson wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He spat into the bowl, cleared his throat before walking over to the sink. He twisted the taps, with a screech water shot from the faucet. He cupped the liquid in his hands and splashed it on his face. His eyes flickered upwards; he focused on the reflection presented before him in the glass. The white pasty face stared at him, eyes emphasised by the dark shadows smudged under the lids, his mouth chafed and torn, his skin stretched so taut with nerves that he barely looked like a member of the living anymore. He raised quivering fingers to his face and stroked the flesh lightly with his fingertips. When had this happened? When had he stopped living? When had the light in his eyes been snuffed to darkness?

He startled as the door burst open, the lock blown from its hinges.

"What are you doing?!" he cried furiously, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Could ask you the same thing" snapped Doug, his hefty frame filling the doorway, his eyes aflame with anger, "You think this is _funny_?!"

"Do I think what is funny?" muttered Hanson quietly.

"All _this!"_ cried Doug waving his arms around wildly. Hanson glanced around the bathroom, as if expecting problems to swarm in his direction like flies. He settled his gaze back on his lover's flaming face.

"You mean did I think getting drunk was funny?" he questioned finally, his tone dangerously soft. Doug glared at him, his hazel eyes smouldering with rage, the intenseness of the anger burning its path on Hanson's soul.

"I didn't. You know, I don't go out of my way to hurt you contrary to what you'd like to think" he snapped, his voice harsh.

"Then why'd you do it? You _know_ what my dad was like, you _know_ I can't stand being around drunk people-"  
"Yet you're perfectly willing to spend hours in a bar getting drunk yourself" snapped Hanson scathingly, "You know what your problem is Doug? You want me to be perfect, you can't stand the fact that I screwed up. You want someone you can place on a pedestal, a toy you can play with whenever it takes your fancy, any other time and you don't even wanna know"  
" How can you stand there and say that?!" roared Doug furiously, " How can you honestly stand there, look me in the eyes and spout this shit?! After everything we've been through in the last few days how can you do that? You think it was fun watching you sob your heart out? You think it was a game when I had to come stop you from practically drowning yourself in the shower?! My God Hanson what the hell is wrong with you? I _love_ you for fucks sake! And all you do is throw it back in my face!"  
Hanson parted his lips slowly, ran his tongue over moss encrusted teeth, the stale taste of vomit and whiskey still strong against his taste buds. He didn't know what to say, couldn't force the words over the lump he felt building. He just wanted to hurt, to cause as much pain as possible so that Doug could feel the glass prickle his soul the same way Hanson felt the shards of shame slice his heart every time he breathed too deeply.

Doug exhaled furiously, his limbs quivering with annoyance, his eyes burning with unshed tears. What the hell was happening to them? What was even the point anymore? He turned on his heel, felt the weight of Hanson's stare cutting into his back as he left the frosty room.

"I didn't mean it" choked Hanson breathlessly, the words spilling out on a tidal wave of sorrow. His eyes locked in on the image of himself, shimmering and twisting in the mirrored glass.

"Why are you so fucking _stupid_?!" he screamed, the reflection remained mute, mocking him; he sent his fist hurtling into the glass. The mirror shattered as his knuckles made impact, slicing and ripping at his skin; He trembled with rage as he hammered his fist into the glass, repeatedly; painting his hand and wrist a deep crimson red.

He grunted and groaned with fury, his lips hissing words he'd been conditioned to spit. The self-hatred he'd been brainwashed into spouting.

He howled in despair, his wail tearing through the room. He felt the dam break as the hot tears streamed down his face, splashing onto his hands, stinging the open wound.

He glanced down at his hand, a scarlet blur, a distorted smear of pain and agony. He whimpered, the shards of glass digging into his knuckles.

He flinched as he heard the flat pounding of Doug's shoes against the stairs.

"What the hell happened?" he questioned, grabbing hold of the smaller man's hand.

"Let go!" gasped Hanson breathlessly. He rived his hand from Doug's grasp, leaving a trail of blood against his partner's palm.

"Tommy, Tom what did you do?" asked Doug, his tone laced with panic

"The mirror shattered"

Doug felt the crunch of glass beneath his feet, turned his gaze to the shards remaining where the mirror once stood. He cast his eyes downwards, to the blood coated hand of his lover.

" Did you-"

He faltered. Hanson wouldn't deliberately injure himself. He might willingly inflict drink upon his fatigued body but he wouldn't self mutilate. _Would he?_

"Did I what? Do this to myself?" questioned Hanson his eyes focused on the thick red liquid seeping from his flesh.

"I never said that" said Doug quietly

"No, you just thought it" mumbled Hanson cradling the bloody mess

"Come on, I'll take you to the hospital" said Doug ignoring his mutterings.

"No!" cried Hanson loudly

Doug stared at him, his hazel eyes frosting with cold displeasure.

"Hanson don't be an idiot, you've cut your hand. _Badly. _ You might need stitches man, will you just come on?!" he snapped, the agitation embedded in his tone.

"Please don't make me go" Hanson whimpered, the words so soft Doug had to strain his ears to catch them.

"Tommy you gotta go so they can fix your hand" replied Doug; he stared in surprise as Hanson's brown eyes welled with tears.

He watched as Hanson nibbled at his lip, his eyes wide and watery against his pale and pinched face. The features of a small and frightened child.

"Tom, it's just the hospital"

"I hate them" snapped Hanson petulantly.

"Why are you acting like such a little kid?" exploded Doug furiously; his patience shattering into a thousand irretrievable pieces. He was sick to death of Hanson expecting him to just accept his bizarre behaviour without explanation.

"You can't make me go. You can't. I won't!" cried Hanson his voice rising in both volume and pitch.

"Tommy don't be an idiot" sighed Doug, "Just come on ok? It won't hurt I promise"

He watched the tear slip down the bridge of Hanson's nose and felt his chest tighten with empathy.

"Come on don't cry" he whispered, his tone softening considerably. He reached out and brushed the moisture tenderly from Hanson's face with his thumb, smearing the droplets into gentle oblivion.

" I don't wanna go to the hospital" heaved Hanson, his small frame shuddering with sobs, the small gesture setting free the torrent of terror inside him, the compassion crippled his defences and he felt the tears increase as he struggled to breath through his whimpers.

_The stench of disinfectant scorched his nostrils, the gleaming white walls burnt his retinas as his heart hammered in his chest. He felt light-headed from the fumes of cleaning products, felt the nausea rise and bubble within his churning stomach as he sat embracing his arm, the pain ravaging the limb mercilessly. He cast his glance sideways, peeking at Dennis through his eyelashes. He watched as the elder man flicked casually through the magazine, uninterested in the teenager's hurt. _

"_Dennis" _

_The rip of paper in the air was his only reply._

"_Dennis" he repeated slightly louder._

_The coals burned bright with displeasure as they rose to meet the chocolate pools of fear_

"_Did I ask you to say something?" hissed Dennis, his thin lips barely moving as the venom splurged forth. _

"_I'm sorry but my arm, it really hurts and, and-"  
"Aw poor baby" sneered Dennis his eyes glinting with perverse humour, He returned his gaze to the magazine, "You should have thought about that before inviting your little friend round to play"_

"_I told you, he's in the academy, he was assigned as my partner I had to work with him. It wasn't my choice!" blurted Tom, the words tumbling from his mouth desperately trying to make themselves heard before Dennis stamped all over them with his harsh and condemning phrases._

"_Yeah right" snorted Dennis _

"_It's not my fault his name came after mine in the alphabet" snapped Tom beneath his breath; he gasped as the pain crawled up his arm, spanning the limb like a spider web of agony. _

"_You keep going Tommy and see what happens" replied Dennis not lifting his eyes from the printed words before him. _

"_Oh what you gonna do in the middle of a crowded hospital?" spat Tom, the pain in his arm costing him all rationality. The agony was too much for him, the injustice of it all eating away at him til he'd blurted the phrase without thinking of the consequences._

" _Give it half and hour and we won't be IN a crowded hospital" growled Dennis beneath his breath, " And then dear Tommy, you'll wish that instead of simply dislocating your shoulder I'd ripped the limb from its socket and shoved it in that enormous mouth of yours so you couldn't say such stupid things"_

_Tom sunk lower in his chair and cradled his arm close to his chest as he bit his lip in an effort to quell the tears. _

"_Tom Hanson" _

_His head snapped upwards as the receptionist called his name. _

"_The doctor will see you now" _

"_Come with me" _

_The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, the fear slipping and sliding from his tongue. The apprehension of the doctor and the cold sterile room outweighing the fear of Dennis' dark mood. _

_Dennis sighed as if physically pained, he stood up, allowed the magazine to slide to the floor in a crumpled heap. _

_He followed the younger man into the examination room, hoisted himself onto the gurney ready to watch and monitor the procedure. _

" _Name?" barked the doctor_

" _Tom" _

" _What's the problem?" _

_Tom glanced from the doctor to Dennis. He parted his lips slowly, ran his tongue against the ripped skin._

" _I think I dislocated my shoulder" he mumbled, his eyes downcast. He watched as the doctor scribbled in his pad. _

" _And how did this accident occur?" _

" _He fell down the stairs, banged straight into the wall. He's such a klutz" chuckled Dennis with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. _

_The doctor peered at him over his spectacles, his features those of one who was not impressed. _

"_And you are?" _

"_That's Dennis. He's my b-"  
"Brother" interrupted Dennis swiftly._

_The doctor glanced between the two but reserved judgement. He carried on with his probing and prodding, fussing around Tom's injury. _

_Several minutes later Tom sat with his arm tied and bound, the limb wrapped heavily in a sling. _

"_I'll just go get the nurse to fill out your paperwork" announced the doctor as he exited the room. _

_Dennis glanced at him, his eyes black and thunderous. _

"_You're an idiot Tommy" he snapped, his face contorted with fury. _

_The teenager studied his shoe laces intently, the frayed fabric mud ridden and stark against the scuffed material of his sneakers_

_He remained mute, his lips pressed together in a trembling line in a desperate bid to prevent the tears from falling through his lashes. _

" _If I see one tear, just ONE, fall down that snotty little face of yours-" hissed Dennis his eyes ablaze with fury._

_He trailed off, the snarl of venom surrounding the pair; the sneer had the power to propel Tom's imagination into overdrive easily conjuring up images of sadistic punishments and retribution. _

" _You think this is bad, wait til we get home" warned Dennis, Tom lowered his gaze back to the ground studying the pale tiles intently as they swam before him abed a sea of tears that couldn't fall._

"Tom?"

The voice broke through; the gentle touch startled him from his reminiscing. The searing burn of pain brought him back to the present with a start.

"The hospital?" prompted Doug, his voice low and soothing. He watched as Hanson's chin trembled, his eyes glistening with trepidation, the smaller man took a quivering step backwards.

"Tommy, I _swear_ no one's gonna hurt you at the hospital" whispered Doug taking Hanson's uninjured arm and pulling him close. His lean body was engulfed by Doug's sturdy one as he succumbed to the uneasy embrace, resting his wet cheek against the larger man's shoulder.

"What about after the hospital?" hiccoughed Hanson, his sorrow smudged eyes peering intently into Doug's confused ones.

"Tommy, no one's gonna hurt you period" replied Doug, his lips forming into a thin line, his brow crinkled with seriousness.


	19. Chapter 19

**Again, sorry for the delay in updates ….blame my university. And writer's block to some extent. I know everyone wants Hanson to tell Doug about Booker and they're all eager to see how that pans out, well I am gonna make it happen just not yet. ****Instead I have a very lengthily and sadistic flashback, I honestly don't know where I come up with these ideas sometimes they're quite disturbing. I guess I'm just weird LOL. As always I appreciate everyone who reads and reviews.

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Hanson sat on the plastic chair, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, the sole of his shoes tapping repeatedly against the tiled floor.

He halted as he felt the warmth of Doug's palm seep through his denim jeans.

"Stop" commanded Doug softly, he leaned across the table and picked up a magazine, "Here read this"

Hanson shook his head, pushed the magazine away with his good hand and resumed squirming, his whole body on tenterhooks as he jiggled his leg up and down.

"Tommy" hissed Doug, "You're gonna hurt yourself will you just _keep still_?!"

"I don't like hospitals Doug" snapped Hanson, "I _told_ you I didn't want to come! Why are you always making me do things I don't want to?!"

"Oh great punch your fist through a mirror and then blame me. Good logic" muttered Doug, the scorn masked beneath his breath.

"What?" snapped Hanson

"Nothing" murmured Doug, he opened the magazine that Hanson had so readily refused and began reading. The shuffle of turning pages broke the silence.

"Stop it" hissed Hanson, his eyes slits of fury, the crest of fear masked at the pinnacle of his chocolate orbs.

"Stop um reading?" asked Doug raising his hazel eyes from the page, his lips parted slightly with confusion, he emitted a lopsided grin, mistakenly assuming that his lover was joking. The smile froze and faltered as he met the burning glare directed towards him.

"Is now not the time?" He questioned quietly

"No shit Sherlock" muttered Hanson breathlessly. He turned, felt the burning glare of Doug's eyes pierce through the denim fabric of his jacket

"You know all I do, all I _ever_ do is try to help you and, and you-" ,his wounded whisper faltered and Hanson felt defeat seep from his lover's tone; his voice hoarse with the effort of not shedding tears. Hanson nibbled at his lip, cradled his injured hand close to his chest and tried to ignore the burning stab of guilt that sliced at his heart.

"Are you seeing Booker?"

The breathless whisper stiffened the hair on the back of Hanson's neck; he felt the cold whirlwind of accusation whip through his body as the words thundered in his ears.

" What's that supposed to mean?" he questioned finally, his heart thumping in his chest.

" Are you cheating?"

" _No!_" snarled Hanson, his eyebrows knotted together with fury. He winced in pain, the passion of the denial sending shock waves of hurt through his fatigued and injured torso.

Doug lowered his gaze to the ground, twisted the magazine in his hands nervously. He cleared his throat not daring to risk glancing at his partner.

" Doug, _Doug _listen to me! I am _not_ cheating on you!" snapped Hanson, he dug Doug in the arm with his hand, startling him into looking at him.

" I'm not"

Doug swallowed deeply; trying to dislodge the lump he felt building. Hanson's denial was so passionate. He wanted to believe it so badly.

"I don't cheat on the people I love Dougie" whispered Hanson softly, his eyes a mirror of melancholy.

_Tom stood surveying the room, he knew Dennis had taken his badge in an effort to get him in trouble at the academy. He startled at the sound of the front door slamming. His eyes darted around the room desperately seeking out a place to hide. He wasn't allowed in Dennis' room when he wasn't there, that was against the rules. He whimpered, the panic thundering through his limbs as he heard the stairs creak. He couldn't let himself be caught again, Dennis would kill him. He didn't want to be beaten again. He cast his gaze frantically in the direction of the bed as inspiration struck. He flung his slender form to the carpeted floor and shuffled beneath the bed, yanking his socked foot out of view as the bedroom door swung open. _

_Tom dragged his body backwards silently until he felt his spine make contact with the wall. He flinched as the mattress caved above him, drenching him in darkness. _

_His heart lurched into his mouth as he felt and heard the rasp of the mattress as it protested against Dennis' weight. _

_Tom inhaled sharply as he felt another body crash upon the mattress. _

" _Are you sure this is ok?" _

_Tom tried to place the new voice but couldn't. He sounded youngish, not at all like any of Dennis' previous friends._

" _Will you just trust me?" _

_Tom felt a shiver run down his spine at the words, the tone so gentle and kind, so manipulative and deceiving, so similar to the words he'd heard a million times on the brink of his relationship with Dennis. _

_His heart thudded wildly against his ribcage as he felt the mattress dip, heard the springs shriek into rhythm as the chorus of moans and grunts rained down upon him, wrapped their filthy bodies around him as he lay frozen, the tears unmoving on his face, his lips trembled with the effort of not letting them fall. _

_He recoiled as the bed bounced against the wall, the headboard smacking repeatedly into the plaster accompanied by a symphony of groans and pants of pleasure. He screwed his face up tight, tried his best to ignore the fact that his boyfriend was having sex above him with some random stranger. _

_He felt the cold path of moisture as the tears leaked from his eyes at the sound of Dennis' expletives, could derive from his glorious shout just how much pleasure this new boy could offer him where he, Tom, had failed. He raised a quivering fist to his mouth and bit the knuckles hard in an effort to prevent the sob from leaving his lips. _

_The banging came to an abrupt stop, emphasised by a roar of ecstasy. The bed shuddered to a standstill as the two bodies lay entwined, a mess of sweat and cum, their heartbeats rapid and their hair matted._

_Tom lay beneath the bed, his face wet with tears, his throat tight with sorrow, his heart scarred with betrayal. _

_He heard the crinkle of foil, visualised Dennis reaching for his cigarettes the way people reached for dinner mints after a good meal. _

_The bed squeaked above him, he felt the pressure lighten as he peeked beneath the bed his vision obscured by naked limbs. He scrunched his face up, heard the jingle and rip of zips as the pair pulled on jeans and t-shirts. _

_He felt his resolve crumble as the front door slammed shut, sniffed as the tears slid down the bridge of his nose. He inched his way from beneath the bed, grappled upwards from his hands and knees to find himself staring into the burning coals of his lover._

"_Having fun Tommy?" he questioned, his voice dangerously low._

"_You, Y-you-"croaked Tom, his voice torn with sobs and fury. He felt his stomach churn violently with nerves and nausea. He gagged as the stench of animalistic sex filled his nostrils. _

"_Come on Tommy I haven't got time for your stupid shit today" snapped Dennis cupping his hands around his lighter, his cigarette sprang into life and he took an eager puff._

"_You, and him, in, in –" he broke down, the sobs intensified. _

"_Aw did that upset the poor baby? If you were obeying orders it never would have happened now would it? Tell me Tommy whose house is this?" _

"_Yours" sniffed Tom_

"_That's right, mine. Good boy. Now where are you not allowed when I'm not here?" _

" _In the bedroom, bathroom and living room" wept Tom, his face blotched and blemished by tears of hurt and despair. _

" _Good, now tell me this Tommy-babe. If you know all these rules WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU FOLLOW THEM?!" bellowed Dennis smacking him sharply across the head. Tom whimpered as ash rained down on the tender flesh scorching his ear and cheek. _

" _You cheated" _

" _What was that?" snapped Dennis, his eyes manic _

" _I said you cheated!" replied Tom his heart in his mouth, " You brought some random guy into our bed and fucked him" _

"_IT'S NOT OUR BED! IT IS MY BED AND I CAN DO WHAT I BASTARD WELL PLEASE IN IT; DO YOU HEAR ME TOMMY? IF I WANNA BRING HOME HALF THE ACADEMY AND HAVE AN ORGY RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF YOU I WILL! AND YOU KNOW WHY TOMMY? YOU KNOW WHY??!" screamed Dennis furiously, sending spittle in all directions. _

_Tom shook his head his shoulders racking with sobs of defeat._

"_BECAUSE THIS IS MY HOUSE. I'M IN CHARGE HERE, NOT YOU.DO YOU KNOW HOW EASILY I COULD REPLACE YOU, YOU LITTLE WHINGING SHIT?!" he roared irately, snapping his fingers swiftly for emphasis, "I could replace you like that!" _

_His voice lowered in volume as he glared at the teenager, his body trembling with rage, the cigarette shaking in his hand. _

" _And cheating? CHEATING Tommy? Let me ask you a question Mr holier than thou, just how many different guys have YOU slept with since this relationship started hmm? Just how many have YOU fucked you little whore?!" the hisses of hatred continued to spill from his lips, his eyes ablaze with anger. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and shook him savagely _

"_Come on Tommy, HOW MANY?!"_

"_I don't know! I don't know!" wailed Tom, his voice cracking with shame. _

"_Isn't that cheating you disgusting little whore? When you sleep with so many men you can't even remember the number? Is that not cheating you shit?!" roared Dennis emphasising each word with a sickening blow. He pummelled the youngster to the ground, not caring that his lover's flesh had begun to split at the seams, that the warm trickle of blood was beginning to show; he closed his ears to the whimpers and pleas of mercy. _

"_Get up" he panted, his face twisted with fury, "Get the fuck up you dirty whore"_

"_I'm not-"_

_He faltered as he felt the sting of saliva against his cheek as Dennis spat on him, he lifted a trembling hand to wipe away the slime of indignity. He recoiled sharply as Dennis' boot made contact with his chest, gasped in pain as he tumbled to the floor. _

"_Don't you dare talk back to me, the things you've done!" yelled Dennis punctuating each word with a kick. Tom curled himself into a ball and wrapped his arms around his head in an attempt to protect himself. His body screamed in agony, he felt as if his torso was aflame with hurt. _

"_GET UP!" commanded Dennis _

"_I'm sorry, Dennis, Dennis I'm s-s-sorry" heaved Tom his whole body trembling, he wailed as Dennis grasped him by the wrist digging his sharp nails into the paper thin skin, leaving bloodied imprints. _

"_I'm sorry Dennis, I'm sorry I'm such a filthy whore" mocked Dennis, dragging the youngster across the room. _

"_P-please Dennis, I'm so-so-rr-y" he sobbed his body limp and destroyed. _

"_Too little too late Tommy." Snarled Dennis furiously, he continued forcing the boy from the room and down the stairs until they arrived in the kitchen._

"_Please" begged Tom his eyes wide with trepidation He struggled ferociously as Dennis clicked the gas switch, filling the room with the stench courtesy of the oven. _

"_No!" he wailed, he pulled away desperately as the gas hob exploded into life. He wasn't going to let Dennis burn him, he wasn't. He couldn't. _

" _But I thought you were sorry" whispered Dennis, the shadow of the orange flame danced and weaved it's pattern across his manic features. _

"_I am" replied Tom his voice trembling_

"_So prove it" _

"_I-"_

"_PROVE IT!" shrieked Dennis, "Prove you're sorry that you cheated on me with all my friends you little shit!" _

_He lunged for the teenager, grasped him and dragged him forcefully towards the flame. Tom screamed, a shrill sob of pain and terror escaped from his torn lips as his flesh made contact with the searing blaze, he struggled but to no avail as the fire torched his arm and wrist, the heat blistering the tender skin. He felt it boil and burn, thought he would collapse with the pain. As the agony reached its peak he felt Dennis yank him backwards, felt his limbs tumble to the tiled floor with a sickening thud. He sobbed and spluttered, whimpered with the pain which ran rampant through his blistered arm. He watched through blurred vision as Dennis turned off the gas and crouched down on his haunches, his face swimming in front of him._

"_You should put that under water. A nasty burn like that" he whispered, his lips curling upwards into a languid smirk of perverse pleasure. _

_He choked and heaved on the floor, whimpered and whined with the hurt and betrayal as he curled his frightened frame into the embryo position in the corner. Dennis stood slowly, glanced down at the empty shell he'd created. _

" _You made me do it"_

_Tom shut his eyes, the lashes clumped together with tears._

_He made him do it. _


	20. Chapter 20

**O****k I'm sorry this has taken so long to be updated I've been REALLY busy. This is a long chapter though, very angsty so I hope you all like it. **

"Tom?"  
The harsh cry of his name roused him from the flames of the memory, he glanced up at Doug, his eyes wet with tears.

"Come on, you gotta go in"

The outline of his partner blended into the sterile white background, his concerned face camouflaged against the cream walls.

"Where, w-where are _you_ going?" choked Hanson unable to comprehend why Doug was stood impatiently towering above him.

"You really think I'm gonna let you go in there by yourself?" exclaimed Doug in surprise, he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Babe, you're terrified"

Hanson looked up, blinked the moisture from his eyes and stared.

"You're coming with me?" he questioned, his voice steeped in wonderment, his breath hitching in the back of his throat with gratitude.

"Oh Tommy" whispered Doug breathlessly. What kind of monster had his partner had to deal with where one small act of kindness such as accompanying him into a hospital room without question was a minor miracle?

He followed the smaller man into the doctor's office, positioned himself as close as humanly possible to his lover.

"You don't have to sit so close, I'm ok"

Doug scrutinised the pale face before him, cast his gaze along the taut features and sweat tainted lips. _Yeah right. _

"I _wanna_ sit here" he lied smoothly, linked his fingers with Hanson's, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"He's not gonna hurt you" he whispered, his voice steeped in reassurance, "He's just gonna fix your hand"

"I know" replied Hanson softly his breath catching in the rear of his throat. He raised his fear stained eyes as the doctor entered the room.

"What's the problem?" he asked

Hanson's reply froze and died on trembling lips. He turned helplessly to face Doug, his eyes wide and pleading, the brown smudges of alarm begging him to answer on his behalf.

"Tom cut his hand on some glass" blurted Doug dutifully.

"Ah huh" the doctor clicked in the back of his throat, he raised Hanson's limp hand and studied it, "Gonna need stitches"

Doug flinched as he felt Hanson's nails dig into the smooth skin of his palm.

"Ow" he muttered, he felt the pressure ease as Hanson lessened his grasp at the sound of his pain filled gasp.

"I'mrealsorryDoug" whispered Hanson breathlessly his voice rising and falling with nerves.

"Ok just breathe Tommy"

Hanson did as instructed, inhaled slowly before exhaling sharply.

"I'm not gonna leave you" murmured Doug quietly so that only Hanson could hear, "Ok Tommy? If you want me to stay here I will."

He heard Hanson's breathing dip then rise as he calmed.

"Ok I'll just start stitching you up then you should be free to go"

"I get anaesthetic!" squeaked Hanson yanking his hand ferociously backwards so that the doctor couldn't touch him.

Doug shot him a withering look of displeasure. Hanson cast his eyes to the greying tiles, his heart hammering in his chest. _He was so stupid. Why did he have to make everyone so mad?_

"Um I dunno what type of hospital you usually visit but here every operation comes with complementary anaesthetic" joked the doctor, a fleeting smile passing his features. He glanced down at Hanson's file and the smile faltered.

"Tom?"

Hanson glanced up swiftly as his Christian name so readily spilled forth from unfamiliar lips.

"You haven't been in contact with your brother lately have you?"

"He doesn't have a brother" said Doug quietly

"Says he does right here in the file" said the doctor in surprise, he jabbed his index finger at the offending print, "One brother, Dennis, always sits in with him on examinations."

His words echoed against the sterile walls, pierced Doug to the core.

"_Dennis?"_

Hanson scrunched his face up tight, closed his eyes to the world, and blocked the image of Doug's wounded stare. _Ok so hospitals kept records. He knew that. Why hadn't he thought of that?_

"Maybe it's best if I talk to you on your own" muttered the doctor with a significant glance in Penhall's direction. Hanson nodded, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah and when he's done talking I can start" hissed Doug scathingly.

Hanson sat, his whole body quivering. The door slammed viciously against the wall; an exclamation point to punctuate Penhall's fury.

"You can open your eyes, he's gone"

Hanson squinted at the doctor through his lashes.

"Why did you say you had a brother?"

"_I_ didn't!" cried Hanson indignantly

"Somebody must have, it's in your file"

"Maybe somebody made a mistake?" suggested Hanson hopefully.

"Look, you can press charges for abuse-"

Hanson smeared a hand against his face, furrowed his forehead in frustration.

"Tom-"

"Don't call me Tom" he snapped, he raised his fiery black eyes to meet the doctors cool emerald ones, "You don't _know _me, you don't know anything _about _me!"

"I know that between the ages of eighteen and twenty you came in here several times with serious injuries and half hearted explanations for their cause. I know that the same man accompanied you into the examination room and did most of the talking. I know you're gay and that the gentleman outside is your current partner. Now all I need to know is where Dennis is and why you had him claim to be your brother? Was it protection?"

Hanson crinkled his brow in confusion. _Protection?_

"_What_?" he questioned his eyes awash with perplexity.

"Was Dennis protecting someone on your behalf? A relative maybe?"

The scornful laughter bubbled and rose in Hanson's throat, escaped on a snort of disbelief. Of course it wouldn't have been Dennis, sweet, kind Dennis who was looking out for poor, little Tommy. No, he was obviously a saint amongst men, would never raise a hand to anyone let alone his surrogate kid brother. Hell this doctor probably thought Dennis could walk on water. Fuck why shouldn't he? Everybody else did.

"No" he snapped shortly before sighing heavily, "I was just a clumsy kid. I grew outta of it"

The doctor stared pointedly at the officer's hand.

"This was an accident" mumbled Hanson catching his gaze

"Oh so the mirror just _happened _to shatter?"

Hanson shifted nervously under his penetrative glance

"Yes" he murmured softly

"By any chance did the shattering coincide with someone's fist making contact with it?" enquired the doctor raising an eyebrow.

Hanson nibbled at his lip, his face twisted and contorted with fear and conflict.

"Ok, yeah. Yeah it did" he admitted breathlessly

"You wanna tell me why you sent your fist hurtling into a mirror?"

"Not particularly" replied Hanson softly.

"Is it because of your partner?"

"No" snapped Hanson agitatedly, "Maybe it's just me"

"Maybe it's just you?"

"Yeah, maybe I'm so stupid that I do shit like this" muttered Hanson

"You think you're stupid?" asked the doctor softly

Hanson cast his eyes downwards, the pain etched clearly on his pale features, he remained mute, his lips quivered slightly with the effort of trying not to respond with the answer he'd been conditioned to spit for so long. The thought that had been burned and beaten into his weary mind continued to haunt him all these years later.

Booker sat at his desk, the dim light softly cascading onto his desk. He scratched at the form in the silence. He startled slightly as the main door crashed open. Doug stood, engulfed by the shadows, his face contorted with fury.

Booker broke into a wide grin, the initial shock fading from his features.

"Hey Dougie!" he crowed

"Shut up" snarled Doug harshly as he clattered into the office. He stood, his chest rising and falling with rage as he glared down at Dennis.

"Now, now Doug is that a nice way to-"

"How do you know Hanson?" barked Doug swiftly cutting the scathing comment

"Well Dougie I _work_ with him" snapped Booker his tone laced with sarcasm

"No I mean how do you really know him? Don't give me all the bull about the chapel because you knew him long before that!"

Booker smirked, his eyes glinting dangerously in the darkness.

"Is that what he's told you?"

Doug blinked his face awash with confusion.

"How do I know Hanson?" mulled Booker softly, "Let me count the ways"

"What are you talking about?!"

"About the ways I know Tommy," Smiled Booker, "Now I know he hates spiders, can't stand the bastards."

Booker chuckled softly as he recounted information.

"I know he loves Mexican food, despises Thai, has a weird aversion to Valentines Day and won't let you call him sport even if his life depends on it. I know that he hates looking in the mirror because he detests what he sees, that he'd rather die than tell anyone he was scared but he'll show you in anyway possible. But what I know best about Tommy is how to make his whimpers turn to groans, to make him beg and plead. I can bring him to his knees in a matter of seconds and he's so willing he'll do any damn thing I ask him to, anyway, anytime".

Doug stood his lips dry and chafed as he gulped; desperately trying to dislodge the lump he felt building. _Hanson had slept with Booker. _

And then he'd lied to him about it.

The devastation soured to resentment. The grief faded to fury as he stood poised, his fists clenched.

"You're lying" he snapped bitingly

"Lying?" laughed Booker cruelly, "Ask him Dougie, go home and ask him!"

Booker's eyes shone with amusement, the seed of doubt well and truly planted he continued to feed denial with malice and spite.

"I don't believe you" spat Doug his voice shaking and vibrating with the effort of refutation.

"Why? Because it's dear old Tommy or because it's me?"

The stony silence swamped the chapel, mocked and sang in Doug's ears.

"He's _my_ boyfriend" he spat finally, "just leave him alone!"

"But he was mine first" snapped Booker darkly

Hanson balked at the harsh night air. Sniffed in an effort to quell the tears he felt frozen against his pale cheeks.

Ok so he could understand Doug being mad. Furious even. _But to leave him on his own in the hospital?_ Did he really deserve that?

He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. The low whimper scorched his throat as the pain tore through his arm, the stitches fresh and sore; he stumbled against the bitter wind, his shoes echoing eerily against the sidewalk.

He let himself in the darkened house his heart pounding to the harsh pulsating beat of rejection. He entered the bedroom, left all lights off and crawled beneath the covers of the double bed resting his wet and burning cheeks against the cool material.

Curled beneath the sheets he allowed himself to drown in tears, allowed his bleeding heart to ooze with anguish as he sobbed under the covers his eyes smudged a tender red.

Doug sat at the bar, cracked the glass against the counter and raised his eyes sluggishly to meet those of the bar tender. He gazed at him expectantly, mumbled and slurred his drunken gratitude as the man poured him another drink. He downed it in one, felt the scorch of whiskey dampen the pain but ignite the fires of fury.

Several hours later he smacked the glass to the counter one last time and stormed into the night, the door swinging shut behind him with a clatter.

Blearily Doug opened one eye, his head pounded to the rhythm of an angry hangover. His forehead throbbed and pulsated mockingly as he moved. He shifted his body slowly, paused as he felt the room spin. He waited until he felt upright, til the room stopped blending into one ashen swirl of post-drunkenness.

He stared at the room in confusion, did not understand how he had come to arrive in their bed. Normally Hanson would sleep here, curled up beneath the sheets, so that when he arrived home in his drunken state he would have no choice but to sleep in the spare room.

He clawed himself upwards, raised a steadying hand in front of him as he padded slowly across the room. He glanced in the spare room but still saw no sign of his boyfriend.

His brow crinkled with confusion as he desperately tried to remember what had happened the night before. Snippets snatched their way through the fog of alcohol as he slowly stumbled downstairs.

_Hanson and…Booker. _

_Sleeping, so peacefully as if he were totally innocent. _

_Flames and fires of fury raging through his contorted body._

_Bed. Hanson had been in bed. _

He faltered at the bottom step. Hanson _had_ been in bed, sound asleep when he'd staggered in at around 3am. He remembered storming upstairs, furiously shaking the smaller man awake. Drunken slurs and vicious screams. Bitter words and cold tones. He remembered Hanson crying. Why was he crying?

Doug screwed his face up with the effort of trying to remember.

The splutter of water in the kitchen broke through his anxious chain of thought. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Hanson.

He sluggishly made his way into the kitchen.

"Hey" he mumbled.

Hanson's slender frame stiffened at the husky croak of his lover's voice. He dropped the plate he was holding, flinched as it clattered against the sink.

He turned slowly, his face pale and sickly.

The purple and yellow weaved across his face; the red ribbons of encrusted blood still caked the rims of his nostrils and edge of his lip.

The stains and blemishes still scarred his clothes as he stood shivering in his shirt and boxers, his eyes heavy and fearful.

And with a sickening jolt the memory of the night before came rushing back to Doug.

"_GET UP!"_

_Hanson startled, his body quivered with fear. His heart slowed at the sight of Doug. He'd been so sure he was back in the abyss of his teenage romance. _

_The relief quickly thundered into fury at his lover's inconsiderateness. At his harsh and brutal screams. _

"_Leave me alone Doug, go to bed and sober up" he muttered drowsily. _

_He flinched as Doug grabbed him, his fingernails nipping and digging into the tender flesh dragging him from the soothing land of sleep into the cold harsh pain of reality. _

"_Stop it, you're HURTING me!" he cried angrily. _

"_Get up!" spat Doug shaking him viciously. He yanked the smaller man from the bed roughly; with a sickening crack he Hanson landed on the floor - struggled and squirmed in Doug's strong grasp his body trembling with fear and fury. _

"_Get off me Doug!"_

"_You get up-"_

" _Let go!" roared Hanson shoving him angrily ripping himself from the restraining hold, the heftier man stumbled, crashed drunkenly to the floor, grasping at the duvet for support as he slipped into a muddled heap. _

_The smaller man stood, his arm throbbing with the violent gesture. His sweat tainted hair flecked his flaming face as he glowered. _

"_Don't you sh-shout at me!" hiccoughed Doug sluggishly dragging himself from the ground_

"_Well don't touch me" barked Hanson_

"_Ha!" _

_Hanson's face crumpled in perplexity. _

"_Don't touch you" mocked Doug his breath soured with alcohol, "HE, HE can touch you!"  
" Who?"_

"_Precious Booker. Dennis frigging Booker" cried Doug furiously, his eyes steeled with hatred. _

"_I told you at the hospital-" _

"_NO! No you didn't" screamed Doug spraying the smaller man with spittle, "You, you SLEPT with him! In the chapel!"_

_Hanson paled. _

"_I didn't" he whispered. _

"_Yes you did" hissed Doug, his eyes flashing manically with rage_

_Hanson shook his head slowly. Slept with him? No, he didn't, hadn't. Not in the longest time. To sleep with him would mean to consent and he hadn't done that. He hadn't said yes. Agreement had not passed his trembling lips. Didn't Doug know that?_

_He watched through watery orbs as Doug's eyes narrowed into slits of mistrust. _

"_I, he" Hanson stammered his throat tight with trepidation._

"_You slept with him" snarled Doug his eyes bloodshot, glazed with alcohol and hatred. With determination and certainty. _

"_No!" cried Hanson his heart beating wildly in his chest, "I didn't sleep with him Doug, I didn't" _

"_Liar" seethed Doug, rationality escaped his drunken stupor. _

"_Why do you believe him over me?" choked Hanson his eyes wet with tears,_

"_Because he knows things!" _

"_I know things!" snapped Hanson sniffing roughly_

"_He knows things about you, things he'd only know if he slept with you!" cried Doug _

"_So? So what Doug! That doesn't mean I fucked him does it? Does it?!" shouted Hanson his voice strained with urgency and panic. _

"_Doug?" he whispered, his voice echoing in the heavy silence. _

"_Did he fuck you?" _

_The animalistic snarl cut through the quiet, wrapped a fist of rage around his heart. Hanson gulped deeply._

"_Did he initiate it? Did you even say no? Did you?!"_

"_I, I, he…in the...No I didn't want him to" cried Hanson his voice cracking. The images flashed before his eyes and he blinked, desperately tried to dislodge himself from the memory of the painful encounter in the chapel toilets. He burst into tears as the cloud of fury shadowed Doug's face into a darker and more twisted shade of black. _

"_You slept with him. I don't care what you say, I don't care if he started it, YOU were the one who never stopped it!" roared Doug_

"_How was I supposed to stop him when he had me pinned against a wall?!" sobbed Hanson the tears leaving a dirty smudge against his pale cheeks. _

_He shivered and trembled as Doug edged dangerously closer, the rage pulsating from every pore. _

"_What are you saying Tommy? You saying you didn't want him to fuck you? That you didn't ask him to?" he sneered his face inches away from Hanson's own. _

_Hanson balked at the alcohol fumes and wrinkled his nose in disgust._

"_H-he raped me" he whispered finally his voice hitching in the back of his throat. The words sounded so cold and distant to his burning ears. They crackled and hissed taunting him from deep within; mocked his slender frame as they buzzed around the pair; the weight of the allegation eventually settling between them. _

"_You can't rape the willing Hanson" spat Doug coldly. _

"_I WASN'T WILLING!" screamed Hanson as the sob tore deep from the back of his throat. _

"_Oh no? Not what Booker said"_

"_Why do you believe him?" sobbed Hanson his body convulsing, "Why Doug?" _

"_SHUT UP!"_

_The first smack reverberated around the room, the crack sent Hanson reeling, and dazed he blinked as he felt the warm trickle of blood trail down his cheek intermingling with the salty tears. His breath escaped on a cloud of pain, unable to comprehend or believe what was happening he emitted a nervous giggle. The unusual reaction bordered on hysteria. _

"_Ah I knew, I knew!" he cried his face wet with tears and blood, he whimpered_

_He flinched as Doug lunged for him, screamed as Doug wrestled his shaking form to the ground._

"_Shut up Hanson! SHUT UP!" _

_Hanson lay there, the heavy weight crushing him and sobbed against the threadbare carpet. This wasn't right. This wasn't meant to be happening, not now. Not with Doug. _

_He squirmed as Doug attempted to rive his boxers down to his ankles, viciously kicked and lashed out at his lover._

"_No!" he yelled, "Doug I'm not! You, you can't just hit me and then fuc-"_

_His words were swiftly cut off by another harsh slap. He felt Doug scratch and claw at his exposed hips, trembled as he heard the rip of the zip. Flattened against the carpet he could offer no resistance, could only struggle feebly as Doug entered him roughly. _

"_You're not his!" hissed Doug angrily as he rammed the smaller man against the floor. _

"_You're hurting me!" wept Hanson his voice muffled. _

"_Shut up! Don't act like you don't want it you little whore" grunted Doug _

"_You're supposed to love me-"_

"_SHUT UP!" screamed Doug yanking him backwards by the hair as he entered him. Hanson's whimper aroused him further, made him yearn to hear him cry. The bitter and twisted desire for revenge burned inside him and Doug started pumping his hips faster, shoved and pummelled the broken body against the floor, shouting expletives as he did so. _

"_How was he huh? Did he make you come? Did you like it?!" he seethed breathlessly, "Come on Tommy, what was he like? Surely someone as filthy as you can retell all the sordid details"_

_They heavy breathing caressed his neck and shoulder blades as Hanson sobbed, he felt betrayed and broken. Like nothing. _

_All he was good for was sex. Sex and being punched around. He should have listened when Dennis tried to tell him that; could see now that he was right all along. _

"_Was he better than me?!" grunted Doug slamming the fragile soul further into the floorboards. _

_The strangled sob spluttered against the carpet in response. _

"_I SAID WAS HE BETTER THAN ME?!" _

"_No" wept Hanson _

_With a grunt Doug climaxed, splattered the smaller man with his fury. He rolled off him, his chest heaving and drunkenly fumbled for the zip of his jeans. _

_He grappled for the smaller man, rolled him over onto his back. He stared down at the pale face before him. Rivulets of red spawned the delicate features, weaved a path of blood through a patchwork maze of forming shades of purple and yellow. Greyish blue now smeared his eyelids, the tell tale marks of hard felt slaps. _

_He spluttered as the red liquid frothed from cracked and torn lips and poured from the tender flesh at the base of his nostrils. _

"_Does it hurt?" whispered Doug breathlessly_

_Hanson stared at him through tear filled eyes, not daring to blink for fear of reprimand. _

"_Does it?!" _

"_Does what?" croaked Hanson _

"_Having your heart ripped out" _

_The silence was shattered by the tender whimpers and broken sobs._

"_Does it?" he repeated_

"_ANSWER ME!" roared Doug punctuating the scream of fury with a vicious kick. _

"_Leave me alone" wept Hanson the tears pouring down his bruised and torn features. _

_The sobs increased as Doug kicked him, savagely venting his frustration on the broken body before him, the red welts spread and blossomed across the pale paper thin skin, mapped their way across the mauve marks and blemishes that were already strong against his fragile form. _

"_Did you tell HIM to leave you alone?!" snarled Doug_

"_Yes" sobbed Hanson, "I did, Doug I did, I begged h-him, I b-begged-"_

_He spluttered, fought the bile that rose from his stomach, retched violently as the vomit splurged from the corners of his mouth. He gagged and choked against the vile substance, his weak stomach unable to contend with the constant violence and intense sobbing. _

"_You're disgusting do you know that?" _

_the voices echoed and blistered in his burning ears, the images twisted and turned in glistening droplets, they all bled together, the monsters rose and roared into one so that he couldn't tell where Dennis ended and Doug began. _

"_JUST GO AWAY!" screamed Doug furiously, the tears no longer tantalised him, they angered him. What did he have to cry about? The drunken state of mind prevailed; the darkness consumed him, twisted and took his soul. The weak splutters died to sharp and shallow gasps as Hanson heaved himself to his knees, used the wall as support as he scrabbled up from the floor, his body exploding and vibrating with pain and agony. _

_He limped from the room, his head spinning; he turned to face his partner, hastily stumbled back as the bedroom door slammed- narrowly missing his slender fingers. _

_He fell against the doorframe, his chest rising and heaving with fear and hurt. His hair plastered his flawed features, the blood dripped onto his hands, joined the rivulets that were cascading from the split skin where the stitches had been torn. _

_He looked down at the blood spotting the cuffs of his shirt, at his boxers encrusted and smeared with blood and bodily fluid. He shut his eyes as he slid his aching back down the door frame, landing with a dull thud against the hallway carpet. He splayed his knees, cupped his face in his hands and cried. _


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm sorry this has taken so darn long. I was on placement from November to January and it took a lot out of me both emotionally and time wise lol. I barely had time to sleep in between working at the school. Thankfully it paid off and I passed but unfortunately my fics suffered. I'm sorry. Writing block was also a major factor in the delay. Anyway I'm sorry if I've lost a lot of readers and if people think I ruined the fic with the last chapter. I just want people to know yes it's dark and depressing but that's angst lol. Also trust me Doug is not Dennis. Thanks for being patient with me. I hope I still have readers left lol and enjoy the chapter.

* * *

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"Tommy I'm so s-"

"Sorry?" whispered Hanson hoarsely, he cast his glance to the carpet, where his eyes twinkled and shimmered with tears of disbelief.

They stood, entrapped in silence and discomfort. Doug felt shame slice through him, felt his heart shatter under the weight of the pain he'd caused.

"I didn't mean to" he said softly.

"I didn't!" he cried sharply when he received no response, "Booker, he said that you and him, that you were sleeping together, that you had, I just, I just got so, so mad. So mad Tom don't you understand? Don't you see?"

" I see you chose to believe him over me"

"Well what did you expect? I mean he'd been to the hospital with you! He could reel off all these intimate things about you I mean-"  
"What did I expect?!" yelled Hanson sharply, " I thought you were _different_ Doug! I thought you _loved _me! You weren't supposed to turn into him, I don't care how mad you got, how pissed off, how drunk – you weren't supposed to be him!"

" Supposed to be who?"

" _Dennis_" snapped Hanson angrily

Time froze; the blatant comparison iced his veins. Doug stared as rage popped and pulsated through him. Not at Hanson, Not this time. He felt the bitter scald of self hatred against his clammy skin and felt the bile of derision rise in his throat. He choked as he cast his gaze over his partner's beaten face. Tenderly he stretched his hand, stopped when his fingers were within millimetres of the broken skin. He felt the cold trickle of moisture against his cheek as he saw Hanson flinch slightly.

"Don't, please" he whispered

"Don't what? Don't move?" asked Hanson softly, "Just stand here right?"

His voice rose in both volume and pitch.

"Just stand here in silence and listen to this, listen to this _bullshit!_ Stand here and let you spout all this crap about how you didn't mean it, that I made you _so mad,_ that I _made_ you do it but please Tommy you gotta believe it'll never _ever_ happen again cause you're so very _sorry._"

"Doesn't it matter that it's true?" asked Doug his voice wavering.

"NO!" exploded Hanson, "You _hurt _me Doug! You turned around and morphed yourself into the guy you profess to hate"

Doug bit his trembling lip, could not prevent the look of confusion and indignation from scarring his pale features.

"I'm not like him"

"No you're not; he beat me to get me to stop crying you did it to get me to start"

"What?"

"Oh sorry did Dennis omit that part of the story?!" spat Hanson his eyes black with frustration, "Tell me Doug, what exactly Dennis told you to make you hate me?"

" I don't hate you, I could never hate you" whispered Doug his voice cracking

" Yeah I mean how could I confuse last night's actions for anything but love"

" Did you talk to him like this?"

Hanson sought the carpet with his crestfallen eyes. _No. No he wouldn't have dared. _

He felt the fire of indignity roar through him. _How dare Doug make him feel guilty, feel responsible. _

"What does how I talked to him got to do with you?" he snapped

"You're _my_ boyfriend!" snarled Doug.

He stumbled backwards when Hanson shoved him sharply and suddenly.

"Stop using that label as if you own me!" he hissed furiously, "I don't belong to you, I didn't belong to him! I _loved _you! I didn't _own_ you"

"Loved?" whispered Doug shakily.

"Love. Loved. I don't know anymore!" yelled Hanson his voice crackling with rage, "You, You go get drunk and then take it out on me, why me? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!"

Doug remained mute, his hazel eyes watery and his throat tight. He didn't know.

"I mean I know, God knows, I'm not perfect but fuck I try. You know I try. I try so hard! With Dennis I followed all his rules, every single fucking one and then he kept making new ones, these stupid damn rules that no matter what I did it was wrong. It was all wrong. _I _was wrong. The problem was never his or his fucking demands it was always me!"

"I was a whore; I was a dirty filthy fuck up. No one gave a damn about me but Dennis. He cared more about me than I did. I couldn't do anything right. Not one single fucking thing. He had to go find, go find other-"Hanson broke down the memories overwhelming him; dragging with them a tidal wave of shame and trepidation.

"He cheated on you?"  
"Yeah." Snivelled Hanson, "I mean why wouldn't he? He did everything else"

"So all those times you were accusing me of cheating you were comparing me to _him_?!" snapped Doug

" Don't you even _dare_ start on me!" spat Hanson roughly smearing the tears into oblivion, " Right now I've got a hell of a lot more ammunition to throw at you then you have to aim at me!"

"I made one mistake and I'm SORRY!"

"Yeah you really sound sincere!" snarled Hanson

"What do you want from me? You want my blood Tommy?"

"You took mine"

The words were out before he could stop them.

Silence crashed into the gulf he had created, settled uncomfortably between the pair.

"You're never gonna forgive me are you?" said Doug quietly

How could he? He'd forgiven once before and look where that had gotten him.

He couldn't return to a life of shame, fear and daily beatings. He couldn't allow himself to slip back into an existence of hurt and humiliation. He wouldn't.

Hanson couldn't look at him, turned his gaze to the window whilst wrapping his arms around his slender frame. He clutched at his torso, his hands quivering.

"I, I think maybe we should, maybe we should quit" he stuttered.

"Quit what?"

"Quit us" he mouthed breathlessly.

Doug felt his heart stop. Hanson couldn't be serious.

Hanson flinched as he felt Doug's hands gently sweep his shoulder.

"Please Tommy don't do this – "he choked

"I have to" murmured Hanson his voice thick with his own tears.

Doug swung him round to face him; Hanson screwed his features up tight, bit against the trembling flesh of his lip.

"Tommy"

The plea burst forth on a deep sob of despair,

"Doug I can't, I can't do it again" he whimpered

"You forgave him, why can't, Tom, please why can't you forgive me" sobbed Doug clutching at the smaller man's t-shirt

"Doug don't please don't" wept Hanson desperately trying to remove the once gentle fingers from his waist.

He felt his partner sink to his knees, heard his own haggard breath of turmoil intermingle with Doug's as the heftier man pressed his face against his thigh.

" Please" choked Doug, " I'm so sorry, so so sorry"

" I can't Doug, please don't _You're making it so much harder!" _sobbed Hanson

Doug clutched at Hanson's hand, urgently pressed gentle kisses against the knuckles.

" Tommy we can fix it, me and you, we n-need to be together, don't you see? Tom-"

His sobs intensified as Hanson broke free, his own tears raining down.

" I love you" sniffed Doug, " I love you so fucking much"

" I-if you l-love me so much jus- just do this for me"

" I can't, Tommy I can't let you leave me" wept Doug

" You have to if you love me" sobbed Hanson, " Doug, if you really do love me and it wasn't just a lie please, please just go"

" C-can I come back?"

" Doug _please" _begged Hanson with a low sob.

" I'll go, I'll go ok Tommy? I'll go" wept Doug, " But I wont stop loving you"

" This isn't a movie Doug, don't spit the clichés" replied Hanson through his tears, " It'll hurt for a while but then you'll find someone new and wonder why you ever stuck with me"

"Never" sobbed Doug, " You, you don't know how special you are, you really don't I, I know I helped fuck you up but, but I'm so sorry"

" I know, I know you are"

"But you want me to go? Say you want me to go and I'll go I swear Tommy. I just need to hear you say it"

" I want you, I want you t-to g-go" sobbed Hanson pushing his hands away from him.

Doug looked up from his knees; Hanson's dishevelled appearance blurred against the backdrop of the wall. He clawed himself up from the ground and stood staring at the smaller man.

"Can I hug you?" he pleaded

Hanson glanced at him, desperately blinked the moisture from his eyes.

"Please, just once, just to say goodbye?" whispered Doug.

Hanson nodded slowly. Doug pulled him gently into a loose embrace.

"I love you" he sniffed, "Oh God I love you so much. I can't believe I screwed this up"

Hanson felt his heart beat against his ribcage, each thump sent a wave of hurt and regret through his body. If Doug held him any longer he knew he would crack, knew he could only stick so many pieces of his fragmented heart back together and that Doug owned most of the bleeding wound.

He felt the cold gush of air velvet his body as Doug released him, and without another word the larger man walked as if in a trance to the door, fumbled with the door handle and left.

The door slammed and echoed behind him, leaving Hanson alone in the vast emptiness that he had created for himself.

He sank to the floor, his whole body retching and wracking with sobs as he quivered against the carpet. Doug stood outside; his back grazed the bricks as his body trembled with tears as a result of his lacerated and shattered heart.

He couldn't believe what had just happened.

It was over.


	22. Chapter 22

**Yes I suck. Yes I abandoned the fandom. Yes I'm very sorry. No I don't think I've reclaimed the passion I had for 21 JS *cries*. I think my writing's improved since writing this - since I wrote most of this over the summer of 2008 and well my writing developed as I added to it ( any wrestling fans check out When Angels fall and see what I mean, I got more descriptive I think lol) anyway I'm hoping to end this fic soon, mainly because it's become a chore writing it and I have no idea where to take it anymore. I think it should come to an end soon before I become some repetative boring author. I hope you guys like the update anyway.....well the people who still hang around waiting for me lol! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and am grateful for your unwavering support and patience! **

* * *

"_You forgave him, why can't, Tom, please why can't you forgive me__!"_

"_You think anyone else is gonna have you? I'M THE ONLY THING YOU'VE GOT!"_

"_You can't rape the willing Hanson"_

"_How many different guys have YOU slept with since this relationship started hmm? Just how many have YOU fucked you little whore?!"_

Hanson lay on his back, his body pounding with the dull ache. The ceiling swam above him as the voices tore around his assaulted body.

He closed his eyes to the grim images spinning before him.

_Dennis dragging him through the kitchen_

_Broken glass shattered all around him_

_Blood_

_So much blood_

_Doug slapping him angrily across the face_

_Flesh ripping apart all around him_

_Tears_

_So many tears_

He opened his eyes with a start, the flickering images dying around him; drowned in a sea of turmoil and despair.

The sticky smears of salt against his cheek had dried on their own. He didn't have the energy to raise a hand to wipe them. Didn't feel like moving. Didn't feel like talking. His body too battered and his heart too shattered to give a damn about going to school.

He just lay there, his head spinning as the memories throbbed into consciousness with every bruised and bloodied heartbeat.

He blinked as the world around him gave into the greedy clutches of mid afternoon. He watched the light fade slightly as clouds floated passed on a tilt from his position on the floor.

The phone shrieked and wailed into life but he made no effort to move. Let it scream itself into oblivion, he didn't gave a crap.

Let it throb and wean to a pitiful whimper before silencing altogether. Why should technology be any different from him?

He rolled to his stomach, his body burning and aching as the rough carpet scratched and bristled beneath him. He rested his chin on folded arms and glanced across the floor his hazel eyes bruised with betrayal as he stared at the dishevelled house he had once called a home.

His chest was so tight with emotion he could barely breathe; shadows of Doug danced and weaved around him before fading into nothingness. They sucked him in before dying in the same way that happiness had taunted and taken him, brought him to the brink of ecstasy before sorrow raised its ugly head and sent him crashing back to this pitiful existence.

He couldn't stand it here.

The memories were building, the runaway freight train of hurt and shame was garnering rapid speed and he could feel his heart ready to explode with the hurt, could feel himself choking under the weight of dismal fumes of self hatred.

His eyes narrowed to dark slits, no not self hatred. He hadn't brought this on himself, not this time. Not anytime before.

It was Dennis. It always had been.

He clawed himself up from the floor, licked trembling and torn lips with determination as he gingerly made his way upstairs, and glanced around the unkempt place that had once been a bedroom.

He fumbled on the carpet for worn and tattered jeans, pulled them slowly over aching thighs and zipped them slowly before yanking yesterday's shirt over his head.

He knotted the bandana over messy hair wincing as his injured arm strained and chafed with the gesture.

Then again the pain was nothing new; his whole body throbbed with the ache and the defeat. Hanson sniffed defiantly, refusing to allow the fresh wave of distress to break choosing instead to let tears bleed and bubble to fury in the direction of Dennis Booker.

He tucked his handcuffs in the waistband of his jeans, slung his gun in its holster before burying it deep within denim and flannel.

Hanson slammed the front door, pausing momentarily to lock the house before clambering into his mustang tearing from the street, tyres screeching as he went.

The school was eerily calm when he arrived, the throng of students had whittled as the school day had dragged on with many choosing to cut class. The final bell shrieked and clanged in the hollow corridor as he made his way towards the Biology classroom.

Booker slammed the locker shut with a clatter that resounded through the deserted corridor. He exhaled sharply, his annoyance seeping from every pore. He didn't appreciate the fact that he'd been left to salvage the case on his own with Hanson no showing. He made a mental note to inform Fuller that the Golden boy was rapidly tarnishing.

He faltered as he felt the heavy hand hit his shoulder, opened his mouth to protest.

"Shut up"

He turned and locked eyes with Hanson's blazing orbs.

"Get off me Hanson"

"Shut up!" repeated Hanson vehemently, he shoved the elder man against the lockers, aimed the cold pistol at the back of his head. Booker wasn't armed, he always left his weapon in his car declaring that he didn't need it, a self satisfied smirk graced Hanson's features. For once he held all the cards and Booker was the vulnerable one.

"You and me, we're going on a little trip" whispered Hanson darkly, "It's gonna be so much fun"

Booker twisted and squirmed in Hanson's hold, knew that he could easily overpower the younger man if he wished. He sensed however that Hanson wouldn't hesitate in pulling the trigger, not after all that had happened. He could sense the change in him, the hatred oozed from his quivering body, the derision burned and scorched from his blackened eyes.

"Move" he hissed

With disgust and fury empowering him Hanson dragged the elder man roughly from the lockers, frogmarched him from the deserted building before shoving him harshly against the bonnet of the mustang, with a click he encased Booker's wrists in metal.

"You know you're breaking a shit load of laws Tommy Boy"

"Get in the car!" snapped Hanson roughly guiding him into the back, he smirked as Dennis' head bounced off the roof of the car with a sickening crack. Dazed and seeing stars the elder man held his tongue for a change before drifting into an uneasy slumber.

Dusk had settled when Booker next opened his eyes, he'd startled into consciousness due to the lack of motion. Their little journey had obviously come to a standstill.

He glanced around him in bewilderment, couldn't fathom where he was. Disorientated he stumbled, only to find that he couldn't move more than mere inches.

He stared down at his wrist, still handcuffed; only now he was tied to a rusted and rotten heating pipe.

"Hanson!" he cried, his voice bubbling with rage, trembling slightly with fear. Wherever they were was dim and dank, the heater hissed in the silence, the steady drip of stagnant water sent shivers of trepidation hurtling up Booker's spine.

He flinched as light scorched his retinas, through the glare of the torch light he could make out Hanson's beaten face. He stood, one hand positioning the torch above his head – the other clutching his pistol.

"Welcome to the other side" whispered Hanson softly, his voice edged with danger, "You know, for years I wondered, I really wondered why, why you kept on-"

"Hanson, look-"

The bullet ricocheted loudly from the wall behind, mere inches from Booker's bound arm. The explosion of wood caused him to jump. As the smoke cleared he sat shaking, his heart hammering as Hanson's face came into focus.

"If I wanted any crap from you I'd pick it out of your teeth" he hissed, "Now I didn't tell you to speak did I? Huh? Did I Dennis?"

Taut silence greeted his intense questioning.

"Answer me damn it!" cried Hanson aiming the pistol at the wall, another centimetre closer to Booker's restricted body.

"No, no you didn't" cried Booker, his chest heaving.

" It's no fun having to follow the rules is it?" asked Hanson softly, " I mean it's much nicer being the one dishing them out, being the one that has all the power, all the tools to cause such torment. I always wondered why you kept on doing the things you did…Now I know -Power. Such a little word, such huge rewards. Gratifies your ego doesn't it?"

"Made you feel like a real big man did it? All those sick stunts you pulled? Did you feel good about yourself? Hmm? I hope you did. I hope it made you the happiest man alive, I hope you have a shitload of golden memories to cling to, I really do" continued Hanson his eyes glassy albeit gleaming with perverse pleasure.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" enquired Booker, his voice trembling

Hanson snickered in the darkness, let out a small murmur of disbelief.

" Are you scared Dennis?" he taunted, " Are you honestly scared of weak little Tommy Hanson? HUH?"

His voice rose with rage, the manic fury echoing through the blackness.

"Come on Dennis, how scared are you? How much does your life mean to you?"

"Alright I'm scared" snapped Dennis, the bite of insolence harsh in his broken tone.

He let out a whimper of panic as the second bullet reverberated mere millimetres from his head. The tears that were pooling birthed from charcoal orbs as Hanson let out a laugh of contempt.

"Oh please, please don't tell me you've broken so soon. The great Dennis Booker, the biggest bully in the chapel playground already in tears. Come now, this is no fun, at least wait a little until you dissolve into the pathetic little vermin you really are" he mocked.

"What are you trying to prove?" hissed Booker, his voice hardened with rage. Furious that Hanson had somehow managed to extract this hated feeling of weakness, he loathed the younger man before him, the slender antagonist standing so cocksure in the shadows, aided by weaponry and madness. He had a million memories that proved him otherwise, an arsenal of reminiscences in which the darkened hero had crumbled, had faltered and failed under well timed punches, the cocky little brat standing off centre had sobbed his fair share of heartbreak. Dennis Booker wasn't the weakling here and he was going to make sure Tommy Boy didn't forget his place.

"You think you're so tough now because you have that thing? You've had guns before Tommy but you're such a fuck up you couldn't be trusted with them. You're a stupid little bastard aren't you? Remember back in the academy when you'd lose your piece every other day? Remember how I'd have to help you –"

"Remember when you'd take it and hide it? When you'd bury it so deep in your bullshit mind games that you'd have me wrapped around your little finger? Yes Dennis I remember it well. When you'd wait, wait and draw it out, you fed on panic and stupidly I let you. I let you scare me witless and then you'd pounce. You sick bastard"

Hanson's wrathful yell over rode any recollection Booker planned on sharing but still doubt crept slowly into the younger man's voice.

"Why are you wasting your time Tommy? You're not going to do anything. You brought me here to try and scare me, well tough luck baby but I'm not afraid of you. Who the fuck would be scared of you? You walk around cowering from your own shadow!" spat Booker

" Not anymore" replied Hanson quietly, " You know why I let you manipulate me back then Dennis? Do you really know?"

"Because you needed taking in line?"

"No" growled Hanson, "See that's where you're wrong, that's where you've always been wrong. I was in line, I was a good person. I loved you and you, you loved power. You got so drunk on control you couldn't fathom straight. Love? You don't know what fucking love is. The reason I let you, because God knows I let you-"

"Bullshit! You didn't let me do a damn thing Tommy, if I wanted you I took you, if you broke the rules I punished you, if you started being a smart ass I pulled you on it. If I say jump you ask how high you got it you little whore?"

Hanson lunged for him, Booker futilely tried to fight back one handed. His head bounced with a sickening crack against brick as the torch rolled with a clatter to the floor weaning into nothingness as blackness consumed them both.

He could feel Hanson clutching him, could feel the cold metal graze his forehead. Hanson's twisted face was mere centimetres from his own, his eyes aflame with hatred and disgust.

"Don't call me that" he spat, "Don't ever call me that. Whore? Me? Who was pimping me out Dennis? Huh? Who was the one making me do all, do th-those… you sick fuck!"

The tormented scream resounded in Booker's ears; the anguish buzzed and bubbled around them.

"I was just me and you crucified me for it" continued Hanson his voice low; throat tight, "You bastard. YOU BASTARD!"

The condemnation rang out in the darkness accompanied by a stinging slap. Booker's face smarted, the warm trickle of blood oozed along his cheek.

"I was helping you" he said softly, "You weren't following the rules Tommy; you were way out of line"

"YOU were out of line! You didn't love me! What we had, that wasn't a relationship" spat Hanson

"Oh but what you have with Dougie is?" snapped Booker mockingly

"I don't have anything with Doug. Not anymore" said Hanson coldly, "You poisoned it, and you killed it just like everything else you touch. You _destroy_. Does it make you feel good Dennis? To ruin lives?"

"Your worthless little existence doesn't even constitute as living" spat Booker harshly

"Neither will yours when I've finished" retorted Hanson darkly, "Every little thing you did, every sick seed you sowed, you're going to reap tenfold, do you hear me?"

"You wouldn't have the guts" barked Dennis

Hanson emitted a hollow laugh devoid of all mirth.

"Wouldn't have the guts? Dennis I've got more guts than you'll ever imagine. You think because you broke me it gives you power? I survived you! I got out!"

"You got out? I let you leave you idiot! I let you fucking leave! I played with you, I fucked you, I got bored you stupid son of a bitch. I got tired of your crying ass so I threw you away and moved onto my next little toy and let me tell you Tommy, he was all the things you wish you could be" jeered Booker, his eyes ablaze with ridicule.

The second smack connected squarely with his jaw, Booker spluttered as blood filled his mouth.

"That time it was my fist, the next time it'll be a bullet" Hanson said ruthlessly, "You think you're endearing yourself by trying to belittle me? You can't hurt me anymore"

"Oh really?" replied Booker snorting with disbelief, his lips throbbed with pain.

"Oh really" countered Hanson softly, "See, I'm not eighteen anymore, I don't starve for affection, I don't plea and pander. Back then I had everything to lose, because God damn it Dennis no matter how much better off I would be without you, for some reason you kept sucking me back in, I'd rather have been beaten than broken. I'd have rather awakened every morning to harsh words and vicious blows than contemplate an empty bed and rejected soul. My identity was tied to my worth and you made sure I was nothing more than you're little plaything, I was your pet project right? It was just a game to you. My life was nothing more than a game!"

" I wasn't playing games. You were the one who kept fucking about; you slept with every single person I brought into the house"

"YOU MADE ME!" screamed Hanson, "You beat me and burned me, and you half killed me if I even breathed in the wrong direction"

"YOU WOULDN'T DO WHAT YOU WERE TOLD!" roared Booker, "If you'd have just done what you were told we could have been happy"

"Happy?!" spat Hanson, "Do you know what happiness is? It's where there's no fear, no tension. It's where you're comfortable in someone else's presence. Happiness does not consist of living like a prisoner in your own home"

"_My _home" corrected Booker, "That was _my_ home, and you vilified it"

"How can you vilify hell?" asked Hanson bitterly

"I dunno, how did you vilify you and Dougie?" smirked Booker

Hanson stiffened with anger, the vehemence seeping from every pore. Booker smiled as he realised he had struck a raw nerve.

"Hmm did you cheat? You were good at that. You'd get on your knees for anyone wouldn't you Tommy?"

"Shut up" seethed Hanson furiously

"Or was it him? Did Dougie get sick of sharing you with every man who came across the threshold?"

"I said shut up" barked Hanson viciously shoving the pistol against Booker's temple

"I know how it was ruined; Douglas got to see how sordid you could really be. He got to see precious Tommy Hanson fall spectacularly from grace, got to see the dirty little whore in his finest hour, he saw the little slut in all his disgusting glory with his very own eyes," taunted Booker breathlessly, " I opened his eyes to what you really are Tommy Boy and he couldn't get away fast enough"

"You lied to him"

"Cameras don't lie sweetheart"

Hanson froze, his heart pulsating rapidly with anger and anguish his hand trembled slightly as his grip on the gun lessened.

"Cameras?" he whispered brokenly, his voice hitched with confusion.

Booker leaned forward, his lips brushed Hanson's ear leaving a smudge of spite.

"I promise I won't show anyone" he said breathlessly.

"_I promise I won't show anyone" _

_Tommy sat picking at the bedcover nervously, his eyes flickered to the closed door with unease. Promises from Dennis were about as trustworthy as an alcoholic with a shot of vodka. _

"_Come on Tommy, wasn't that what this holiday was meant to be about? Us forgetting the shit and moving on?" _

_Tommy licked his lips nervously, unsure as to whether his response was required._

_They had come to the cabin with the intent of starting over; their vacation was meant to be the clean page on which their relationship would be written. Dennis had promised as much and Tommy had believed him. _

_Dennis had assured him that the beatings and belittlement were a thing of the past, the trip to the hospital had opened his eyes, had made him see that they couldn't continue down the weathered path of destruction. _

_His words were sweet and light, his touch nothing but tender – against his better judgement Tom allowed his heart to rule his head once more. _

_Now here they were, sat on the double bed as Dennis snaked a coaxing arm around his young lover. _

"_It'll just be for you and me" he said softly, "It'll be fun" _

_Tom cast his gaze doubtfully on the camcorder. _

_Somehow the scenario presented by his lover seemed seedy, almost malicious in intent. Tom couldn't comprehend how recording themselves making love was going to do anything to strengthen their already fragile relationship. _

_Before he could construct a valid argument Dennis wrestled him to the bed, lying atop him he slipped one hand beneath his lover's boxers. _

_He struggled to breathe as Dennis meshed his lips violently against his own, his protests swallowed by hungry kisses he let them die into a silent whimper as Dennis tore at his clothes knowing resistance was futile. _

_Tom startled as the bedroom door crashed open, rowdiness and sordid squeals split the air dousing him in fear and disgrace. _

_He felt Dennis' grasp tighten as he flipped him with ease so that he was stomach first on the bed. _

" _You really didn't think I'd let my friends miss out on all the fun now did you Tommy?" hissed Dennis, his breath warm against Tom's already flaming earlobes, red with humiliation at his own stupidity. _

_He let out a low moan of sorrow as he felt unfamiliar hands claim his now exposed flesh, pillaging and probing his most intimate areas. _

_And as he felt his body violated once more, his wounded gaze never faltered from the blinking light of the camcorder, flashing red through his salted glaze of shame. _


End file.
